Beginnings: The Rise of Dodger
by Wkdly.Rita
Summary: Part 2 of my prequel. Rita has settled happily into her life with Dodger, Einstein and Fagin, but with the challenges of adolescence and some new members of the family to contend with, 'settled' may be short-lived. As a face from his past leaves him losing his way, Dodger must confront everything he's buried within him if he is to step up into his new role as leader of the gang.
1. Growing Up

Rita sped up; it was late, the sun had long since set and if she was out much longer Fagin would surely be worried.

"C'mon Rit, what's the rush? Just stay out, just one night." A shepherd mix panted as he struggled to keep up with the hound. It wasn't easy when she so often ran right out onto the road; how she'd not been run over by now was a mystery to the much more cautious shepherd.

"You know I'd love to," Rita turned to her companion, briefly pausing to catch her breath, "I've just got other priorities. Fagin's not been feelin' too good, I should be with him." She carried on her way, leaving the young shepherd scowling.

They neared the barge, both recognising the point where they always parted. It had been agreed that no one would bring visitors back to the barge, just to be safe. The shepherd didn't mind all that much; like most street dogs, he was cautious of humans. He tried to be open minded about it all, strange as it seemed to him, but couldn't imagine himself willingly approaching a human, even a friend of Rita's.

Rita slowed to say goodbye. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow, Scout." She nuzzled his neck affectionately, feeling slightly guilty for letting him down. It had been happening more and more, what with Fagin feeling ill recently, but he'd always been patient. They'd been seeing one another for a few weeks, and while the shepherd hadn't quite gotten his head around Rita's friendship with a human, nor was he completely happy with her hanging around Dodger so much, it had been nice. The guy was sweet, if a little too serious at times. He made her feel special, something she'd missed out on as a little pup, and she fell for him easily as a result. At eleven months old, having a boyfriend was a brand new experience for Rita, and even after a few weeks it was still exciting.

"You better had. You know where I'll be." Scout smiled, covering up the disappointment he still felt. Rita could be a real challenge to pin down to a date- her devotion to her master and friends always outweighed everything else, even her obviously great interest in him. He gently played with the dark red-brown ear feathering that framed her face, causing her to blush beneath her fur.

Rita licked his muzzle with a flirtatious smile, and then stood and watched as he walked away. Since the harsh winter that had almost been her undoing, she'd filled out and grown taller, but still retained a puppy quality in her movements. Even better nourished and more mature as she was, she was still a spindly slip of a thing, a product of her breeding- though not as scrawny as she'd been when she was living on her own. The fur that adorned her floppy ears was just starting to come in, the beginnings of the signature feathering that so many of her type displayed. Her look was topped off with bright blue eye shadow that she'd worn since she'd swiped from an unattended purse as a small pup. Actually, it had run out- she tended to be overgenerous when applying it as it wasn't exactly made for canine usage, but Fagin had replaced it with a very cheap alternative. The resulting picture was of a rather scruffy young dog, but Rita was happy with her look and brimming with self-confidence. As she'd hit adolescence, she'd enjoyed the interest of young males (other than Dodger for a change) and found in herself a flirtatious streak. Rita was proud and self-assured, more than capable of taking care of herself and tough enough that any unfriendly dogs she encountered would think twice before crossing her. She was growing up, no longer the naïve puppy that Dodger had brought home.

To Rita's relief, she found Fagin rather chirpier than he had been that morning. She bounded up to him, tail wagging and licking at the air even before she reached him. Between licks she yipped a greeting, leaving her master with no doubt of her excitement to see him.

Fagin coughed as he got to his feet, a remnant of his recent illness. "All right, all right! Easy on the licking, I don't remember ordering a bath!" He laughed all the same, and tickled Rita's exposed belly as she rolled playfully onto her back. After a long day, it was good for one's spirits to be greeted by the pup with such adoration. He'd been delighted to have her back after her disappearance during the previous winter, and though curious as to where she might have got to, there had been no hesitation in welcoming her back into the fold with open arms.

Still grinning, Rita got to her feet to greet Einstein who had lolloped over to join in the love-fest. He was never one to miss out on hugs and belly scratches. Dodger, not so much; he sat watching from a distance, always playing it cool. He knew that Rita didn't need him to fling himself at her to know that he was happy to see her.

"Yo, Rita, how's the boyfriend?" Dodger asked casually, a hint of a tease in his tone. Like Rita, he'd grown into himself a lot over the previous months, and he no longer looked a puppy. He'd grown more independent; spending more and more time away from Einstein and keeping himself amused- usually at the expense of others. Nowadays, Dodger was more purposefully seeking out girls, though not with the intention of making friends. It was not uncommon for Rita to run a long behind him apologising on his behalf to young ladies who hadn't appreciated his advances, but in Dodger's eyes it was just a bit of harmless fun.

Freeing herself from the friendly tangle with Einstein, Rita sat down next to Dodger and nipped his ear affectionately. "He's pretty good, just not happy with me rushin' off home. Nothing new there. We had a good time though, he showed me a really great spot with an amazing view of the park. We mostly just hung out there, it's out of the way so we weren't disturbed at all."

"Aw, our little Rita's all grown up." Dodger laughed, the teasing obvious now. He took a sharp blow to his ribs from Rita's paw for the cheek.

"Well, at least one of us is. Dodgie-baby, you're trouble." She wasn't really bothered by Dodger's mocking her, it was all in good fun. It was a contrast to her newfound relationship with Scout, who would never dream of having a laugh at her expense. The shepherd's idea of flirting was a polite compliment or a gentlemanly gesture; and it had occurred to Rita that Dodger could do well to watch and learn- not that the over-confident mutt ever seemed to have trouble reeling girls in.

Dodger dropped into a play bow, swaying slightly, making a challenge to Rita to sort him out. All joking aside, recently she'd been carrying herself with a greater maturity, becoming the 'grown up' of the group despite her tender age. He figured it was largely down to that shepherd kid, who was not a lot of fun himself. The shift had only made it all the more satisfying for Dodger to get Rita to enjoy a friendly tussle with him. It really didn't take much trying, she still knew how to let her fur down.

Seeing an opportunity for a rumble and taking it, Einstein bounded over, bowling Dodger onto his side with a joyous and booming bark. Dodger was quickly up and fighting back. Rita ducked out the way, but it was a pointless exercise- when a dog as large as Einstein decided he wanted to play, there was little to do but to give in and enjoy it. They tangled together, biting and lashing out at one another, filling the air with snarls. Even after Fagin had waded in to stop the scrap, all three dogs fell around, laughing.

"Oh Einstein, you've gone and got drool in my hair _again_." Rita huffed as she noticed the slimy mess. It was one of the hazards that came with the Great Dane's company. She wiped it against his shoulder to remove the worst of the drool. Noticing the concerned look on Einstein's face, she offered him a reluctant smile. "Good thing I love you, huh?"

Life was pretty great, with the challenges of winter behind them and both pups well and truly coming into their own, things really couldn't be any better. Since coming back home after the long weeks spent fending for herself, Rita had managed to rebuild the bonds she'd shared with what had been her family, and they'd moved past the hurt- though Dodger had taken his time in forgiving her leaving them. That was in the past now, and it was almost as if she'd never been away. As Rita lay down in her bed to relax for the evening, she felt a certainty that this was how things were meant to be. Surely nothing could shake up the little family that the four of them had made together.


	2. The More The Merrier?

Coming home after a successful day, Rita was in high spirits as she trotted along the shortcut she always took, a wallet clasped firmly in her jaws. It had been a busy few hours, as she caught up with Scout, and by happy surprise, her father. She'd bumped into Storm a few times since becoming separated from him on New Year's Day, and he'd been hugely relieved to see that she'd not only survived, but found her way home. He wasn't a particularly sociable dog, but he always welcomed an opportunity to catch up with his daughter. Rita was tired after the long and busy day, and was with relief that she saw the welcoming sight of the old barge in the distance. As she finally came down the stairs, a scent hit her, strange and unfamiliar. On guard, she realised that the voices she'd been hearing on approach were not sounds from the television set; there were dogs down there. Her hackles raised as she braced herself for a confrontation, and she rumbled a low growl as she descended through the doorway. Einstein was down there, and he seemed unconcerned, a fact that calmed Rita slightly. She saw the strangers- there were two, one of which was clearly just a pup. Her lip raised in a snarl, she rounded on to them and looked back to Einstein. "You okay, Einy? Who are these guys?"

"Fagin brought them home." Einstein was beaming. "They can stay, right?"

The pup rushed forward, pulling away from the large, barrel-shaped dog who had held him back. He was the tiniest dog that Rita had ever seen, were it not for the furiously wagging tail she might have mistaken him for a rat.

"Ooh _chica_, they didn't tell me you were a babe!" The pup's eyes were wide as he approached, and his tongue lolling out.

Rita stepped back quickly, the snarl returning to her face in an instant. She had no time for any of that garbage, Dodger's overzealous romancing was quite enough to have to put up with in her own home. "You watch yourself, kid. Put your eyes back in your head where they belong- and keep them there."

The larger of the two strangers, a rather rotund bulldog, replaced his paw on the pup's tail, pulling him back. He avoided eye contact with Rita, and busied himself with restraining the struggling pup. "Tito, will you stop that? I don't believe you grasp what ruffians like these may be capable of- and need I remind you that you are little more than a mouthful to them? Besides, you don't know where she's been, the filthy creature," he hissed at the pup, wanting to keep as much distance from these frightful dogs as possible. He had no doubt in his mind that folk of their kind were dangerous to say the least, and would think nothing of mauling innocents live he and the tiny pup. Still avoiding looking her in the eye, he looked up to Rita. "I can assure you, scoundrel, that I have no interest in exchanging pleasantries. Your master brought us here, and as we have nowhere else to go, here is where will spend the night."

"Look, if you're thinkin' we're gonna eat you, maybe you'd be better off leavin'. No potential cannibals outside." Rita stared down the stranger, the venom in her voice a reflection of the fury that his words had incited. The bulldog shied away from her, his nerve obviously failing, and he looked at her in repulsion, barely covering up the fear in his eyes. Seeing how frightened the idiot stranger really was, Rita wondered if she'd been a little too hard headed in her response to them. She made an effort to soften her approach, despite her anger at the insult thrown her way. The bulldog appeared well fed, and clearly had enjoyed a privileged lifestyle. This must be a shock to him. "If Fagin took you in, you're welcome to stay. Dodger's bringing the food home today, he shouldn't be too long. Take what you need. And you can look down your nose at us all you want, but it's your kid who could do with learnin' some manners." She looked down at the tiny pup, a Chihuahua, who had finally ceased his attempt to get nearer to her, and then to Einstein who was trying to entice the kid over to play. "Mind you don't crush our guest, Einstein." Rita almost cracked a smile at Einstein's friendly nature, he seemed to like just about everyone. Turning her back to the strangers and retreated to her bed for some space while she waited for Dodger and Fagin to return home. With such hostile company, her own home was now an uncomfortable place to be, and she just wanted to get away from it. She hoped that the visitors would not be staying long.

Rita stayed tucked up in her bed, silently listening to the sounds of Einstein playing with the tiny puppy, who was constantly chattering away. The kid didn't seem too bad, a little overenthusiastic maybe, but clearly fearless if his feisty attitude toward the almost exponentially larger Great Dane was anything to go by. She was in a half mind to stop being so stubborn and go and join them- really, it sounded like they were having a great time. It was just the sense that the bulldog gave her… that she had all the value of a piece of excrement on the bottom of a shoe, which left her reluctant to leave her safe space. Every now and then the pompous fool would interrupt the game of the other two, reminding the pup (whose name, judging by the older dog's reprimands, was Tito) of how dangerous the savage street dog with whom he tangled was. The sound of footsteps on the stairs was the signal that Rita was waiting for, and she finally emerged from her bed.

"I hope you guys have been playing nice!" Fagin said as he came through the doorway, Dodger close at his heels. The bulldog held back as the others rushed to greet them, the short hair on his shoulders raised defensively as he eyed the mutt. In contrast, Tito was eagerly sniffing at the older pup, completely fearless.

"So kid, Fagin brought you in, right?" Dodger could sense a potential friend in the tiny Chihuahua, the kid clearly had attitude.

"Yeah, man- I was out with my brother Frankie- I found him after I got out through the fence, and Fagin gave us biscuits, he said we could come home with him. And now we're here." The Chihuahua never stopped bouncing, hitting the ground with each syllable.

Dodger glanced over to the other newcomer, who was keeping his distance. "I guess I missed formal introductions?"

Rita shook her head. "We didn't get to that part yet."

"Yeah, Rita's been hiding away. I think she doesn't like our new friends." Einstein said sadly.

"What's up, Rit? Who put your tail in a knot?" Dodger asked, noticing his friend's avoidance of the bulldog.

"I just wasn't expecting to come home to a little kid drooling over me and some over privileged pet treat me like something he dug out of a trashcan. As long as they play nice, so will I. Simple." Rita was sick of the tension that had built up, and hopeful that Dodger could smooth things over. If anyone could charm the bulldog into a friendlier state, Dodger could. "We may need to start over."

Before any sort of a real meet and greet could commence, Fagin called the dogs over for a bedtime story. Needing no further encouragement, Einstein was at his master's side in an instant. They'd enjoyed stories together since he was just a pup and it had always been a special bonding time for them. Rita was grateful for the distraction and lay at Fagin's feet. Until recently, she'd listened to stories from the scruffy man's lap, but she was almost full grown now and while such a feat was doable, it was no longer a comfortable experience. Just one of the many hardships of growing up.

"Guess proper intros can wait a little," Dodger grinned, happy enough to just enjoy the story and a chance to wind down for the day. He turned to both of the newcomers. "Just the basics for now- name's Dodger; Einstein an' Rita you sorta met. It might not be what you're used to, but this is our home, and as long as you're here you gotta respect that. And kid, you want to back off with Rita, she's not interested. Think of her as a sister or somethin'. She's harmless enough if ya don't give her a reason not to be, but you cross the line and she can pack a hell of a bite. Don't be jerks and you'll be fine. Einstein wouldn't hurt a fly, so no need to worry there."

The newcomers listened, and the pup was first to speak. "I am Ignacio Alonzo Julio Frederico de Tito, and this is Frankie. I found him wandering around on his own, so we've been hanging out- just so he's got someone to fight for him if he gets jumped. Frankie's scared of just about everything!"

"It's _Francis_, pipsqueak. I will also have you know that being suitably cautious of thugs on the streets does not a coward make."

"You comin' for the story then, Francis… er…" Dodger had forgotten the name of the pup. It was fair enough, considering the name easily rivalled the kid himself in size.

"I have simply been calling him Tito." Francis told the mutt as he tentatively followed behind him. Sheepish, he avoided looking Rita in the eye as he moved in to join Fagin's audience. He'd realised that he'd behaved poorly, and while he was still unsure of the leggy young bitch, he was now more preoccupied with embarrassment over his social faux pas. He was surprised as she moved to the side, allowing him to sit in. There was little Francis could do about his current situation, so he made up his mind to try and make this (hopefully brief) chapter of his life as smooth as possible, even though that would mean fraternising with less savoury types. He forced a smile and tried to focus on the story. It wasn't exactly Shakespeare, but at least it was a distraction from his present predicament.

Tito clambered up the side of the chair and onto Fagin's head, his little paws dangling over his face. Fagin shook his head back as the flailing feet obscured his vision.

"Yo Tito, he can't read with you flappin' in his face." Dodger laughed, and watched as the Chihuahua shifted to a less awkward position, sitting atop his new master's shoulder. Truth be told, the mutt was excited about the new additions; this kid would have no issues in being led astray, and Dodger was looking forward to being a terrible influence. He figured that Francis would be OK once he settled down, it just might take a while. He quietly hoped that the newcomers would end up staying permanently.

Rita sighed to herself, finally relaxing a little in the company of the unfriendly bulldog. It looked as though Dodger had made a good impression, and that maybe this wouldn't be as bad as she'd first thought. The coming days would be interesting, that was for sure.

* * *

Sleep that night was short-lived, Rita found herself awoken by crashing and banging. Her hackles raised and she got to her feet in an instant- if there was danger, she's be ready for it, no matter how unsociable the hour. As her head emerged from the curtains of her bed, it became clear that there was no threat, just the tiny puppy making a terrible racket as he continued his exploration of his new home.

"You mind keepin' it down, Tito?" Dodger yawned, watching as the Chihuahua appeared from beneath the pile of plates that he'd sent flying. It seemed that the kid didn't have an off switch; he just kept on going late into the night. Dodger liked the pup, but after long hours being kept up, all he really wanted was a chance to get some sleep.

"Aw, man! I'm too excited to sleep. I've got my new digs to check out!" Tito bounced up onto Francis' back, his preferred vantage point from which to plan his next foray. He cared little for the grumblings that came from his companion-cum-lookout-post, he had nothing to fear from the bulldog.

Rita huffed and turned back into her bed. The curtains did little to block out the noise. "I promise you, it will all still be there when you wake up in the morning. You can take the place apart when everyone's not tryin' to sleep."

"Okay, okay, I'll be quiet!" Tito shouted back. He carried on with his exploration- the barge was a very large place for such a small dog, but tried to keep the noise down.

"What are you looking for?" Einstein asked, carefully getting down from Fagin's lap so as not to wake him. The Great Dane wasn't really into late nights, but judging by the enthusiasm in which Tito was getting into everything, it seemed that he was missing out on a lot of fun.

Rita sighed. Now that the kid had an accomplice, the chances of him getting to sleep any time soon looked pretty dismal. It took only a matter of minutes for Tito's idea of 'quiet' to descend into more of the leaping around, knocking things over and trying to taunt Francis into a row. "Hey Francis, is he always like this?" Rita asked with a yawn.

"Not always," Francis had given up trying to sleep by now and was keeping an eye out for Tito so he could swat him with his paw, "Frequently though. In my experience- and I have only known the fellow for a few days, sooner or later he will settle down."

"How'd you end up together?" Rita asked, having given up on sleeping through the noise. After the rough start she'd had with Francis, it was an opportunity to gain a better understanding of the strange dog.

"I'm not entirely sure, I just acquired him at some point. I was wandering alone… and then there he was, following behind me." Francis said, still unsure of the young hound, but happy to make conversation while Tito's antics prevented sleep. "Aside from my human, I lived alone. I'm afraid I had very little to do with other dogs in my old home, but for whatever reason Tito wanted my company."

"This must be weird for you, hey Francis?" Dodger had already become fond of his new companion, despite his apparently stuffy and pompous nature.

"I'm finding it a challenge, yes." The bulldog said sadly. It had been a difficult few days as he found himself completely out of his element. The kindness that Fagin had offered him was welcome, but it did little to bring comfort in the face of such a major upheaval. He was distracted from his thoughts by Tito flinging his tiny body at him. "Oh Tito, do stop being such a pest!"

"C'mon, Frankie man! Think ya can take me?" Tito laughed and jumped up and down on his large friend. He bounced easily out the way of Francis' swiping paw and gnawed on his ear.

"And you, Tito? You ran away?" Dodger yawned as he spoke, and held out hope that the pup would settle with some conversation.

"Yeah, man! They wanted me to stay home all day, sit on their laps and be treated like a toy. I wanted out, so I slipped through the fence."

Rita wrinkled her nose in disgust, thinking back to her early puppyhood in an instant. "You know there are dogs out there who would do anything to find a home? What kind of a dog would abuse a chance like that?"

"Cool it, Rita. The kid just went and made a vacancy for another dog who would want it-why should he stick around somewhere like that? I know I wouldn't." Dodger said smoothly, an argument had certainly not been his intention. He knew that it was a sensitive area for Rita after all those weeks of being made to feel unwanted, and then the loss of her sister, but at the same time sympathised with Tito. The thought of being cooped up, unable to act like a real dog was quite an unpleasant one.

"I must say that I cannot fathom why a dog would leave a comfortable home and choose to live like this. I have lost everything, and here you are inflicting the same situation upon yourself. I don't understand." Francis said sadly, his mind wandering back to the place he'd grown up, been fed hearty meals and enjoyed the finer things in life.

"Hey, you wanna go and live like that, be my guest. They're not making a lapdog out of me!" Tito yapped.

Einstein whined, the tension that had suddenly filled the air making him uncomfortable. "It doesn't matter really, does it? It's done now, and we have a new friend. Isn't that a good thing?"

"Sure it is, Einy. The more the merrier!" Dodger allowed himself to get drawn into Tito's game, batting at the pup with his forepaws. It wasn't as if anyone was getting to sleep anytime soon.

Rita conceded that Einstein had a point, there was little to be gained by giving the kid a hard time, no matter how wrong it seemed to her. At any rate, it was far too late in the night to be quarrelling. In her eyes it was also too late to be play-fighting, but Dodger and Tito were happily crashing around together. How Fagin was still asleep was something of a miracle- he must have been pretty tired to sleep through all this.

As Einstein made to join the pups in their rumble, he tripped over the little Chihuahua as he darted around his feet. With an almighty crash, a pile of plates and dishes went flying, and Fagin was finally jolted from his sleep.

"What in the world… do you have any idea how late it is, boys?" Fagin rubbed his eyes as he tried to wake up enough to sort out the chaos. "Settle, settle down!" He offered a hand out towards Tito and scooped him up onto his lap. "Have you been keeping everyone up?"

Einstein happily snuggled up back on his master's lap, and smiled as Tito finally settled down, tucked up against his cheek. Dodger breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that sleep would at last be on its way. The hours of manic activity catching up with him, Tito was off like a light just moments after laying down his head. In the quiet that had so quickly descended upon them, the others would not be far behind. A new day lay ahead, the start of something different for them all.


	3. The Reluctant Street Dog

It was morning by the time Fagin managed to drag his canine companions out the door; all were exhausted after a largely sleepless night. All that was, except for Tito, whose boundless energy had kept everyone up in the first place. As everyone piled in to the back of Fagin's tricycle, Francis hesitated. He'd appreciated the scruffy fellow's kindness in providing a small bite to eat and a roof over his head for the night, but surely he could not stay. A dog of his breeding, his upbringing had no place here, in this company. What would he be finding himself entwined into should he stay any longer? Was there any way back to something- anything, more than this? He couldn't become just another mangy, smelly street dog, rifling through trash and stealing just to get by, he was so much more than that. But even as he glanced around, searching the unfamiliar landscape for any sign of a way out, Francis knew that the choice was between becoming a lowlife amongst apparently trustworthy folk, or doing so on his own.

"Coming, Francis?" Dodger called out, wedged between Einstein and Rita with Tito perched atop his head.

The bulldog breathed deeply, and then scrambled (with a fair degree of difficulty as he was quite a portly chap) into the trolley to join the others. What choice did he have? Riding in the back of the tricycle was an uncomfortable business, and being squashed in with the four other dogs didn't help matters. The sights that whizzed past as Fagin erratically moved through the city were alien to Francis, and did little to ease his anxiety. When they finally lurched to a stop, it was with great relief that he found his paws on the still pavement. In contrast, Tito had a whale of a time as they careened through the traffic, very nearly falling out of the trolley on several occasions. He was bright-eyed and raring to get exploring with his new friends.

Dodger looked around at his companions, excited by the prospect of showing Tito and Francis the ropes. All the same, he wasn't quite sure how best to manage the larger group. The newcomers naturally took the lead of Rita and Einstein and looked to him for instruction. "OK guys, how 'bout we split up to cover more ground? Rita, you can take Francis out. Make sure he gets a bite to eat."

"Right, Dodge." Rita was apprehensive, having had a rough start with Francis the day before. If Francis' expression was anything to go by, he was not about to jump for joy at the prospect either. She had a sneaking suspicion that Dodger wanted her to give the snobbish fellow his initiation so he himself could concentrate on the more enjoyable task of keeping the feisty pup amused.

* * *

Taking care of the newcomer turned out to be just as much of a chore as Rita had anticipated. He gained self-confidence quickly once he knew he was no longer outnumbered, and was loathe to take direction from a dog who was scarcely more than a child, and a street urchin at that. Francis made his strong opinions known about everything- he would _not _be consuming anything that had come from the trash, nor would he in any way act an accessory to thievery, nor would he follow along at a faster pace than a sulky waddle. He had not the slightest inclination to join Rita in taking shortcuts over the tops of vehicles- though she imagined that he'd lack the fitness to do so without causing himself any injury anyway. It was quite the handicap to have Francis in tow, yet Rita was reluctant to leave him alone while he so obviously lacked the street smarts to keep himself out of trouble- he showed no caution towards any human at all, happily approaching anyone and everyone in hope of being 'rescued' from her.

Rita knocked over a trashcan, and moved aside. "OK Francis, you don't have to eat anything, but can you at least have a look through, see if you can find anything at all that might be worth something. If you don't want to eat out the garbage or steal, you're gonna need to pay for your food somehow."

Francis eyed the rubbish that had spilled onto the cement. The smell was nauseating. "There could be anything in there," he said, disgusted.

"That's the point- you never know when you'll get lucky. Fagin's giving you a roof over your head, and whatever food he can manage; the least you could do is make an effort to help him out." It was like talking to a brick wall… a stubborn, over-indulged brick wall. She walked a little way away and stuck her head in a second can. "I'll take this one, and you carry on over there."

The smell of rotting food, used diapers and goodness knows what else kept Francis at bay, and he miserably looked at the mountain of rubbish. If the scrawny pup thought she could pull him, Francis, down to her level, than she would be sorely mistaken. How on earth had it come to this?

A deep but muffled bark distracted Rita from her search, though the sound was not aggressive. She looked around to see Scout coming up the alley, a newly caught rat in his mouth.

Scout briefly put down his prize to call out to her. "Hi Rita, fancy bumping into you! You and your friend want a bite to eat?"

"Thanks hon, it's good to see you." Rita happily abandoned her search, and the failed attempt at getting some work out of Francis. She looked back around to see the bulldog had backed away, fearful; and called out reassuringly, "Don't worry about him, he's a friend of mine."

Francis knew that he'd never be able to move fast enough to escape should the stranger attack anyway, so nervously took Rita at her word. He looked on in horror at the limp creature that the shepherd was gathering back into his jaws. "Is that… a rat?"

"Dinner, Francis. Probably not what you're used to, but it'll keep ya goin' for a while." Rita was unperturbed by the look on Francis' face and happily sunk her teeth into the unfortunate rodent's leg. "I'll pull you off a bit."

"You needn't, I will not be putting any part of a filthy sewer rat in my mouth."

"You wanna go hungry, buddy?" Scout asked, bewildered by the bulldog's response.

"Frankie, you gotta eat something. You don't know when you'll get your next meal." Rita dropped a piece of meat at his feet with an encouraging glance. This dog was like no one she'd encountered before, and she couldn't help but wonder how he'd ever manage to get by.

The bulldog turned his snubby nose up once more, annoyed the use of his unwanted nickname. "I appreciate your attempt at hospitality, but I simply cannot eat that."

Sensing that there was no point in pushing the issue further, Rita just carried on tucking in with her boyfriend. At least the meal wouldn't be going to waste. "Thanks for this, Scout. You know you didn't have to," she said, licking her lips.

Thoroughly fed, the pair gave one another a quick clean-up, licking the mess from each other's faces. Scout was a little disappointed that he had found Rita with a dependent companion in tow, it would by no means help his chances of getting her alone.

"So once I take Francis home this afternoon, you want to hang out for a while? Things are pretty crazy at home right now, and if I'm going to give myself a break from it all, I'd rather it was with you." Rita spoke quietly with a flirtatious smile.

Scout wagged his tail happily, "You can count me in."

Still queasy at the sight of the dismembered rat, Francis had the feeling that he was intruding. Whatever these young ruffians wished to get up to, there was no real reason for him to be there getting in the way. "Please don't feel the need work around me; I should be leaving anyway. Send my regards to your companions for allowing me to stay the night, but I don't belong here. I'm not a street dog, and I need to get out of this nightmare." He turned to leave, with not the remotest idea of a way forward… but surely anything would be better.

Surprised as she was, Rita was still quick enough that it took no trouble at all to block the bulldog's path. She could not honestly say that she particularly liked the guy, but was by no means about to let him do anything stupid on her watch. "Wait, wait- you've got no business going off on your own. You'd last all of five minutes."

"And what would it be to you? I will be out of your fur, and you can carry on your merry way, thieving and otherwise being a dark blot on the landscape of society." He couldn't be dealing with this, he needed to get away else be corrupted.

"Apparently even a 'dark blot on the landscape of society' has a conscience." Rita growled, having had just about enough of the bulldog's insults. Surely, he realised that she was trying to help? "I'm not sayin' you'll be in for an easy ride if you stick with us, but it's a walk in the park compared to going it alone. You've got nowhere else to go, Francis! Fagin must have seen something in you or he wouldn't have brought you home- you got lucky, don't just throw it away."

"So that is my fate, to spend the rest of my life living on garbage, becoming a criminal? I never did anything to deserve this!"

In spite of his rudeness, Rita felt pity for Francis. He clearly couldn't cope with the situation in which he'd found himself. "Most of us didn't either," she shook her head, "But you've got to make the most of what you have." She watched him as he struggled to keep a hold of himself. "Just try and stick it out a little while longer, you might find it's not so bad as you think. I guess you're family now, and that means we've got your back."

Francis gave in; he'd just have to face the frightening new world that had been thrust upon him. "If you insist, I will stay for the time being. Actually, if it isn't too much bother, do you mind taking me back to the barge? I feel I need to lie down."

"Sure," Rita offered him a kind smile, hopeful that the pompous dog might be mellowing a little. She turned to Scout, "You don't mind do you? I won't be too long."

The shepherd shook his head. "Don't worry about it, go sort your buddy out. I'll see ya soon." He gave her a lick on the cheek, turned down the alley and carried on his way.

Rita and Francis headed home, taking the easiest route she knew. Being unused to being on his feet all day, Francis had become tired quickly, and found himself very grateful that Rita hadn't pushed her idea to get home more swiftly by jumping around on top of moving vehicles. Lost in his thoughts, he said very little.

"So Francis, if you don't mind me askin'; what happened?" Rita asked over her shoulder.

The bulldog paused to catch his breath and then spoke. "I had a wonderful home; I lived with a professor of the arts- oh, the things I experienced! My master was a fine fellow, and through him I experienced the wonder of theatre, the splendour of famous works of art. You will not understand it, living in the gutter as you do, but it truly was something to behold." As he went back in his mind to his old life, Francis spoke with a passion and a joy that had been absent since finding himself so far from him. "Sadly, the dear fellow was old. His family took him away, but they had no interest in caring for me. They drove me into the city, and when I stepped out, they closed the door behind me and left." His voice cracked as the painful memory came back to him.

"I'm sorry, you must be hurting bad right now." Rita nudged her head against his, a gesture of friendly support.

"Thank you for your condolences." Francis sighed, starting to trust the young hound, but still slightly wary of her. "And yourself? I gathered from your response to Tito last night that you were not born a street dog."

Rita nodded solemnly, "My humans couldn't find anyone who wanted me, so they went away and left me behind. I was young enough that it wasn't too hard to adjust, but the rejection isn't easy to take. I was lucky though, I had Dodger looking out for me. Fagin took me in, and now I wouldn't want anything else."

They walked on, the atmosphere between the two of them rather warmer than it had been that morning. Whether the newcomers would become permanent additions to her motley family, Rita was unsure, but in the short-term, she was certain that they could at least help them out.

Upon reaching the barge, it became obvious to the pair by the barking coming from within that they were not the first to head in for the day. Rita came down the stairs and eyed Dodger, Einstein and Tito who were in the middle of a rumble. "Watch it!" She snapped as the lumbering Great Dane barrelled right into her. She looked behind to see Francis looking on, unsure. "Dodge! Dodger!"

The mutt pulled himself away from the tangle and paws and teeth, swiftly transforming his snarl into a suave smile. "What's the matter, babe?"

"I'm goin' back out, I left Scout waiting. Just make sure you keep an eye on Francis, will you? He's way outta his depth."

"Absitively," Dodger turned back to Tito who had taken the opportunity to start gnawing on his foot. "You two kids have fun- and don't stay out too late." He smirked at Rita.

"Later, Dodge." She rolled her eyes, well used to Dodger's teasing.

* * *

The pleasant late afternoon breeze played gently with Rita's fur as she trotted out to meet her beau, a refreshing feeling. A part of her felt guilty for leaving the others to it, especially if Dodger had been bothered to stick around rather than stay out late harassing girls, but it would only be for a few hours.

"Rita!" Scout called from across the docks, his tail wagging. He'd always frequented these parts, and found it convenient that the object of his affections lived nearby.

"Hiya handsome, you miss me?" Rita bounded over to him, feeling suddenly playful after a day of Francis-sitting. She ran and nipped at Scout's tail, and laughed as he returned the gesture. The pair frolicked around the docks until the sun sank below the horizon, and then Rita followed as Scout led her to his present abode.

The shepherd crept over to a pile of old crates, and jumped up to a large one on its side, perched on top of another. Above the line of sight of most dogs, he could stay there largely unnoticed. He looked down to Rita, beckoning her to join him.

"I can't stay long, baby. The others will be waiting." Rita effortlessly jumped up to join Scout, and allowed him to draw her nearer. She licked his face affectionately, and exhaled contentedly as he lay his paw over her side.

"So things have been a bit full on with your new friends, hey?"

"I'm not even sure if it's going to be a long term arrangement. Fagin brought them home last night- Francis and the little one, and it didn't exactly go smoothly. It's not that I don't like the guys or anything, though I may have butted heads with them a little, it's just a really big change." Rita snuggled against the shepherd, enjoying the contact despite his dusty fur.

"Well, if you need some time out, I'm more than happy to help you take a break." Scout leaned his head down to kiss Rita, who had squirmed onto her back.

"In that case, I may be able to stay a little longer." Rita smiled up at him, and settled in for a very welcome romantic evening.


	4. New York's Coolest Quadruped

As the initial excitement that he'd felt over the new arrivals waned, Dodger was soon back to his usual priorities; getting up to mischief, teasing girls, and generally making a show of himself. In recent months he'd been spending a great deal of time off on his own, testing his abilities and building quite the reputation. He'd started wandering off by himself more often during the couple of months when Rita was absent; the sense of exploration and the need to learn quickly kept his mind away from stewing in resentment, and since then he'd kept it up to an extent. Often he'd wander back home in the early hours of the morning, if he did come back at all. Every now and then he found himself wondering if he'd be better off eventually leaving Fagin and his friends so he could really throw himself into becoming a street dog above all the rest, and be able to live a truly care free life with no responsibilities. Deep down, he'd always been affected by losing his mother at a young age, and he wondered if leaving his puppyhood home behind would allow him to forget. Any thoughts of leaving were quickly extinguished though; always trumped by how much his friends meant to him- even Francis, who had little time for the young mutt. Dodger knew that he could never bring himself to let Fagin down; not after all he'd done to care for the young pup when he could barely feed himself. So often, dogs that he met on the streets would scoff at Dodger's friendship with a human, but then, Dodger told himself, they must not have met a human like Fagin.

Confident in his ability to bring something useful back for Fagin without too much trouble, Dodger's focus to begin with was seeking out something to eat in the meantime… and possibly an encounter with an attractive young lady. He'd grown up enough that his flirting was more than just a way of drawing attention to himself from cute strangers, so the time he was spending without anyone else tagging along behind could be put to good use. By now he knew all the best places for encountering other dogs- there were several spots that were almost always buzzing with canine activity, and female company would not be difficult to find.

Approaching a run-down old building that usually had at least a few dogs hanging around, Dodger's eye was caught by a pretty stranger. She appeared to be a Border collie, or at least had rather a lot of Border collie in her. She was petite, and had a white stripe going down her face which contrasted with her black fur. Her hackles raised at the sight of him, a usual response to an encounter with an unknown street dog. Dodger leaned against the wall, relaxed, making it clear that he was not a threat. The collie's fur smoothed back down, and her eyes flicked over him. Dodger smirked- she was obviously interested.

"So, darlin', you live round here?" he grinned, and sauntered over.

The collie smiled, amused. This guy was not much more than a pup, but he managed to turn heads all right. "That's not the kind of information I give out to strangers… even if they are as cute as you."

"Then maybe we ought to get better acquainted?" Dodger turned to walk out of the alley, making eyes at the stranger over his shoulder. She would follow, of that he was sure.

* * *

A couple of hours later, the Border collie mix was still staying close to Dodger, having been triumphantly seduced. Dodger was pleased with his efforts, and happily rolled around on his back in good spirits. The collie was quite taken with him, and he was more than willing to enjoy the attention. Now that he'd gotten what he wanted, he did, however, need to get at least some work done. Extra food was needed these days with the newcomers on the scene. Since first day, Francis had gotten over his reluctance to consume stolen goods, which he took as a preferable option to eating from the trash. As the bulldog had thus far proven himself useless in the thieving department, Dodger had to take it upon himself to bring home more food than was needed to feed just himself. He got back to his feet and stretched. "You want to go for something to eat?"

The Border collie happily joined him, "Sure, do you have anything in mind?"

Dodger thought a little about the best way of finding something that would feed several dogs but at the same time could be easily carried. If he could get his paws on a whole string of hotdogs, or something big like a pizza, that would be perfect… but it was a big ask. The collie had given him an enjoyable afternoon, but Dodger had no intention of allowing her to take away what he should be bringing back home. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her; an accomplice would be useful. Hotdogs, he decided, would be the best option; easy to get away with quickly. Hopefully the collie wouldn't be one of those types who wouldn't go anywhere near humans. "I could go for hotdogs. You know if there are any vendors that frequent these parts?"

The collie nodded, "I'll show you." She trotted along happily, glancing every now and then to her companion in an almost love-struck manner. As she came nearer to her target, she'd stop every now and then to sniff the air, checking for signs that she was on the right track. Finally she stopped. "There you go, handsome," she said, "hotdogs."

Reaching the collie's side, Dodger scanned the area. The lunchtime rush was long since over and there was no one to block access to the vendor… and the sausages. The downside to this was the fact that there would be nothing to distract the man from the assault on his wares. Dodger turned to the collie, who was already licking her lips. "Think you can get him away from there? Leave the actual snatching to the pro."

"OK," the Border collie said, and she moved forward to start her approach, "Show me what you can do." She dashed in, and bit at the vendor's trousers, snapping and snarling. She dodged out the way as the man kicked out, but then came in again to grab hold and pull him a little way away. A glance back toward the stand told her that Dodger was making his move.

Dodger struck quickly; the hullabaloo caused by the collie was beginning to draw a little too much attention- not that he was fearful of dog catchers or the like, but the sooner he got out of there with the sausages, the better. He pulled at the string of hotdogs and almost a dozen came away. With a single quick movement, he flung them behind his head so they hung loosely over his bandanna. His accomplice was still terrorising the vendor, so Dodger could quickly slip away before she knew what had happened. His prize safely around his neck, he made a quick getaway across several lanes of traffic. Very few street dogs were road savvy enough to risk such a move, so Dodger was not surprised in the slightest when he looked over his shoulder to see the Border collie mix scowling and shouting in fury on the other side of the road. She wouldn't be taking the risk to regain her share of the meal, and Dodger had no need to worry about being followed- certainly not quickly enough to catch up at any rate. He jauntily carried on down the next street, filled with satisfaction over what could not have been a more successful afternoon.

"Dodge, you really are terrible."

Dodger paused and looked over his shoulder. He knew that voice in an instant and smirked his response. "So I'm bad? Gets results doesn't it?"

"That I can't argue with." Rita strutted up from behind, eyeing the hotdogs around his neck. She'd eaten very little all day, just a few scraps here and there, and those sausages smelt so good. "Pity your new friend couldn't stick around for dinner… or are you movin' on to the next one already?"

"You make it sound like she got nothin' out of our encounter. I just thought we'd skip the dinner date and get straight to the fun part. I don't have all day, ya know." Dodger casually scratched at his ear. "Which leaves a potential dinner reservation wide open," he pulled off the string of sausages and flung them around Rita's neck, "if you're not doing anything?"

Rita giggled. "Tempting though it is, we might have to make that a dinner for five. I'd hate for poor Scout to get the wrong idea."

"It's only dinner, no need for your boyfriend to get his tail all knotted. Unless of course you want there to be." Dodger winked and moved closer. It was all in good fun, just the way he'd always been with her- except these days Rita would flirt back.

"Come on, we'd better get moving or the hotdogs will be cold." Rita smacked the mutt in the face with her tail and laughed as she trotted off. Truth be told, she liked the way he teased her. Dodger had charm in abundance and she was happy to play up to him. Rita sometimes wondered if she was allowing herself to get sucked in too far, but decided not to worry too much about it- just about every girl she knew had a little crush on Dodger, why should she be any different? What was more important was the bond of friendship they shared. Any doubts that she once had that Dodger truly cared for her were long gone; despite the hurt Rita had caused him, he'd been her rock after she arrived back at the barge, almost dead, after her long weeks alone. He was almost always at her side as she recovered, even though he'd obviously been hurt badly, and helped her to find the courage she needed to get back out on the streets. In the face of his reputation as a Class A jerk, Dodger really was loyal to the core, and Rita had a whole lot of respect for that.

Dodger ran to catch up and nipped at Rita's ear. He noticed a small wound on her shoulder. "You get into a fight?"

Rita scowled. "_Tito _got into a fight. The dog was about ten times his size! I had to step in so the stupid kid didn't get himself bitten in half."

"I should've said something about that, he doesn't like to back down. Just don't let him start anything and you're fine- or grab him before he can jump in." Irritating though Tito's fearlessness could be, Dodger was impressed nonetheless. That kind of spirit was admirable.

"The kid's got a screw loose," Rita said, "If Fagin hadn't found him he'd have got himself killed by now."

"Guess he got lucky," Dodger shrugged, "Don't worry so much; he'll wise up eventually, and in the meantime at least it'll keep ya on your toes."

"I don't need keeping on my toes, if I want to get beaten up I'll arrange it myself. I still think you should take some time to work with Frankie, help him out a bit. He really doesn't have a clue, and leaving me or Einstein to take care of him hasn't worked so far."

"If I take him out tomorrow, will you get off my back?" Dodger grumbled, fed up of Rita's recent attempts to get him to coach Francis. As far as he concerned, it was unnecessary; street smarts would either come to Francis or they wouldn't. Dodger was quite happy enough working solo, free to do things his own way without taking care of hangers on.

"The sooner he can pull his own weight, the better- and you'll have more time to keep the ladies of New York happy if you don't have to pick up the slack. I just think you could get through to him better than I can, you know how much Francis likes me." Rita said, hopeful that Dodger might start being more helpful. He seemed content to limit his assistance to the newcomers to hanging out with Tito, with whom he could just have a good time with no resistance.

"Fine, but if it matters so much to you, you can come along too." Dodger surged forward, taking the lead as he always did. He almost always took the same route home, which made it easier to run into Rita or Einstein on his way.

Satisfied by Dodger's response, Rita ran to catch up with him, and playfully bounded along by his side. The movement sent the hotdogs slipping down. Not missing a beat, Dodger grabbed hold of the sausages and swung them back around his own neck. Put out, Rita made to pull the hotdogs back, and the pair engaged in a brief playful tussle. Dodger sped up, moving through the building site in which they found themselves with ease, glancing back every now and then to encourage his friend to chase. They made their way home, playfully running and nipping at one another the whole way, knowing that the gift of dinner they brought would only be too well received.


	5. The Befriending of Francis

In the days since his arrival to the barge, Francis had come to realise that there was little reason to fear his new companions after his initial nervousness around the potentially dangerous street dogs. The realisation did not, however, mean that he was any more enamoured with them, and it had been with great displeasure that he watched as young Tito happily integrated himself with the older dogs. Albeit reluctantly, Francis had become very attached to the feisty little dog who'd become his shadow when he was lost and alone, and he was by no means thrilled with the pup's being influenced by riff raff like Dodger and his little fan club. It hadn't taken long for Francis to discover that Dodger had gained quite the reputation, and it certainly wasn't a reputation for being someone who could ever be considered as an appropriate role model for a growing pup.

Tito, in contrast to the pompous bulldog, had no qualms about his new friends. He'd very quickly established that Dodger was a whole lot of fun, always up for a game of rough and tumble and more than happy to show off his daring and acrobatics during the long summer days they spent working on the streets. When it came to making mischief, Dodger was a pro, and he was quite happily idolised by Tito. From the beginning, Tito had a great playmate in Einstein, and couldn't care less that he could so easily be accidentally crushed during their raucous games, it was all part of the fun. He'd found that Rita could be a lot of fun as well, so long as you caught her in the right mood. When she _wasn't _in the right mood, she was rather fun to annoy, though Tito had received several hard bites after pushing her tolerance levels too far. Tito was smart enough that he soon managed to grasp when the line had been crossed.

As agreed, that morning Dodger pulled everyone together so that he could try and work with Francis. He'd rather be doing his own thing, but there would be some merits to making a proper street dog out of the newcomer… though he expected it wouldn't be something that just happened overnight. "Okay, Francis, time for your crash course in street savoir-faire. You'll be pleased to know that you'll be learning from the very best." Dodger smiled his smug smile, unperturbed by the sulky look on the bulldog's face.

Rita wagged her tail expectantly. Finally, a chance to actually get somewhere with poor old Francis. He didn't look too pleased with the idea, after all he had spent most of his time just riding around with Fagin as he didn't seem keen to go out of his comfort zone, but there was no reason why he couldn't make some progress.

Francis' face was set. "It is not the place of a ragamuffin adolescent to order me around. If you wish to bring me down to your level, you are going to be sorely disappointed."

"Oh, Frankie! You can't keep this up forever. If you want to get by, you're gonna have to make an effort." Rita said, frustrated. This stupid dog just didn't want to help himself.

"It's 'Francis', insolent child!" he shouted imperiously.

"What's your problem, Frankie man? Do you wanna eat tonight or not?" Tito yipped, "This is fun, man. Just give it a chance!"

"Come on, Francis, Dodger will show you everything you need to know," Einstein said with a friendly grin.

Dodger was not, however, put out. He casually scratched at his ear. "So what do you want to do, Francis? You think you should run the operation?" There was a hint of a smirk on his face.

Francis was taken aback for a moment but then gathered himself. "Well, it would make rather more sense to have a mature adult at the helm. If you have no objections?"

"Fine with me. I'm just a ragamuffin adolescent, it's all too much for me to handle," Dodger shrugged, and noted the horrified look that Rita was giving him. "Maybe you could show us a thing or two."

Francis narrowed his eyes suspiciously, wondering if Dodger was up to something, but was not about to suddenly opt out of getting his own way. All the same, he found himself unsure of what to do next. "Well, er… will you please go off and find something to eat. If you could do so without pulling it from the rubbish that would be excellent."

Rita raised an eyebrow and looked back at Dodger, still bemused by whatever game he might be playing. So much for his sorting Francis out. "I'm not sticking around to be told what to do by someone who doesn't have a clue," she said, frowning, and turned to Francis. "If you're going to stop making life difficult for yourself, come and find me." She turned, with one last exasperated look Dodger's way, and slipped off into the traffic to try and get some work done.

Watching the young hound disappear, Francis huffed moodily. At least Dodger was making an effort to be cooperative.

"You might want to mind your manners with Rita if you want her to take direction, especially seeing as she knows more than you anyhow," Dodger laughed, "So, where do you want to start?"

* * *

It did not take long for Francis to realise that he would not be in for an easy ride. Dodger's being cooperative extended so far as doing what he was told, but he kept demanding precise instruction, quite obviously trying to make a point.

"You keep saying you want me to go and get you something to eat, but you're not saying where you want me to get… or how… or what you're hungry for. I'm not a mind reader, you'll have to help me out here." Dodger said, reclining on his back and watching as the new 'leader' became all the more flustered.

"Oh for goodness sake! You are being deliberately unhelpful. Just go and do whatever it is that you do." Francis drew himself up importantly, "It's attitudes like yours that give dogs of your kind such a poor reputation."

"Maybe if you just showed me what you were after… leading from the front and all that," Dodger smirked, knowing full well that he was getting to Francis.

Not helping matters for the bulldog was Tito's persistent jabbering on, nor his attempts to run off to find some female company. As if Dodger weren't being enough of a nuisance, he quickly joined the younger dog in making passes at leashed ladies who came by their poor attempt at getting work done. Tito was more than happy to be deliberately troublesome in order to highlight Francis' incompetence, and on several occasions they all had to make a quick getaway after the little Chihuahua stirred up strange dogs whom they'd run into. Every now and then Rita would make an appearance, apparently curious as to whether Dodger had worn poor Francis down yet, and feigning deafness whenever the bulldog attempted to order her into submission. Einstein, at least, was trying to be helpful, and busied himself with rifling through the contents of trashcans while Francis looked on. Intermittently, Einstein would turn around to remind Francis in earnest that they hadn't really found much. It occurred to Francis that he might have had a more enjoyable day if he'd just swallowed his pride from the outset, but he certainly wouldn't admit to it. He sniffed sadly at a partially deflated old basketball that the Great Dane was now merrily rolling up and down the alleyway.

Several very tedious hours later, Francis finally admitted defeat. If he wanted to eat, he'd just have to come down off his high horse. "Dodger, I'm afraid I've had to reconsider my stance. It seems," he took a deep breath before reluctantly continuing, "that in spite of your youth, you have far greater capability than I to bring out the best in our comrades. If you'd mind resuming your position?"

Tito fell around laughing- they'd cracked him.

Dodger grinned. "Guess I could take back the reins, if it's all too much for you. I take it you're up for your masterclass tomorrow, then? You could use a few pointers."

Francis scowled a great scowl, but nodded.

Dodger shook himself and got to his feet. "All right, time for some food I think. Your regime left us all starving."

The dogs ended up picking through the trash to find dinner, something that previously would have been met with much resistance from Francis. Now, however, he just quietly got on with it. They were soon joined by Rita, who had been lurking a short way away. Having opted out of taking direction from the newcomer, she'd already eaten, and lay atop the overturned bin chatting and laughing with Dodger- who was rather impressed with his own handling of the situation.

"Hey Francis," Dodger picked up a half-eaten burger and flung it to the still-sulky dog, "try this, don't think it's been in there too long."

Francis sniffed gratefully at the offering, and swallowed his pride enough to take it. At least the mutt wasn't gloating. Any hostility from Rita seemed to have faded as well; her attitude towards him was once again friendly, as though she hadn't just spent the past few hours being purposely difficult. It occurred to Francis that young or not, neither pup would be easily undermined, and he'd just have to learn to accept their unsavoury behaviour and influence over the younger Tito.

* * *

Francis sat on the deck in the afternoon sunshine, lost in thought. He failed to see a way out of his predicament, but remained loathe to just give in and accept the situation in which he found himself. Occasionally, he heard a shout or a bark from down below; apparently the others were in high spirits. The events of earlier in the day had dented Francis' pride, and he just stared out to the shimmering water as though no one else were around.

Inside the barge, Einstein was merrily tumbling around with the battered old ball that he'd picked up on their collecting mission, while Tito gnawed at his muzzle and ankles in attempt to get him to surrender the prized position. Einstein could barely feel him there. Dodger was quick to join in the game and was soon tussling with the other two as they rolled the ball over the floor and crashed into anything that stood in their way. The lopsided ball rolled into Rita's bed, just past the green curtains that hung around it. Tito approached, unperturbed by the hesitation of the other two.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" Rita called from her vantage point up on Fagin's chair, stopping Tito in his tracks. She jumped down and moved to block the puppy, her lip raised in feigned aggression. Dodger was eyeing her expectantly and had sunk into a play bow in anticipation, to which she responded with a moment's bow and a quick dash to take possession of the ball.

Dodger got to the ball first, having decided to push his luck and intrude on Rita's personal space, and bolted up the stairs and on to the deck with the others in hot pursuit. He made a beeline for Francis, who was still resolutely pretending that no one else was there, and dropped the ball in front of him. "Are ya in, Francis?" he laughed, certain that he could get the stuffy bulldog to join in the fun.

Francis looked at the ball and then to Dodger. He was not well used to play; his previous master had always been far too busy to engage him in such frivolity and there had never been other dogs around. Before Francis could really consider the invitation he was bombarded by the other three, who jumped around, barking, and ready to run in to challenge him for the pathetic old ball with which he'd been bestowed. Though the seeds of interest had been stirred, he was not willing to give in and engage with his companions, and he knocked the ball to one side with a swipe of his paw.

For a long while, Francis watched the wild game as it unfolded. They'd headed up from the barge to a space with more room to play without so much risk of the ball being lost into the water, and Francis had followed and seated himself a little way away. What was it that made him continue to hold back from, if not his situation on the whole, but the companions with whom he now shared his life? Dodger was arrogant- and if the day's events were anything to go by, manipulative, but at the same time it seemed like he very much wanted Francis' friendship. And it seemed that Rita was trying to help him, though not in any way that the bulldog actually found helpful. 'Well-meaning but stubborn' was Francis' take on the young hound. He knew that his initial harsh response to the little gang of street dogs had been unfair; they were just making the best of the lives they'd been given, something that he himself was struggling to get to grips with. Now Dodger was locked in play combat with Tito and both were snarling loudly, while Einstein just kept missing his chance to pull the ball away from them, not made any easier by the fact that Rita had gotten herself up onto his back and was biting at his neck. It certainly looked as though they were enjoying themselves.

The rumbling, spluttering sounds of Fagin's scooter pulling up pulled Francis' attention away from what the others were doing. He hauled himself over to greet his… not master, he was not quite ready to accept the scruffy man in that role, but, perhaps, friend.

"Good boy, Francis," Fagin said cheerily, scratching the bulldog's head. "Keeping out the way of those goofballs? They're all right really, buddy." He strolled over to where the other dogs were caught up in their scrapping, "Come on, boys! Let's see what you've got."

Within seconds, Fagin disappeared under a writhing mass of dog as Dodger, Tito, Rita and Einstein rushed to greet him. Dodger dropped the ball so he could frantically lick his beloved master. Fagin picked it up and struggled back to his feet, peeling the dogs off himself. "Are you ready? Go and get it!" he threw the ball away and watched as the four of them tore after it.

For a moment Francis hesitated, but then he took the plunge and raced after the others as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. He was unsure of himself, but the draw to be a part of it all had gotten the better of him. Einstein turned with the ball in his mouth and bounded merrily over to Francis, thrilled to have him joining in the fun. Francis found himself wagging his corkscrew tail as he playfully grappled with Einstein- and soon the other three as well.

Dodger flung himself joyously at Francis, thrilled that he'd finally started to get the hang of having fun. It might take some time to make a street dog out of him, but at least the newcomer was starting to feel more at home. Already Dodger thought of him and Tito as family, and he knew he'd have to redouble his efforts to make it all work- even if it came at the expense of the carefree days on his own that he'd become so accustomed to.

All five of them laughed as they played, and they carried on until the sun dipped below the horizon. Francis struggled to catch his breath as he ran alongside Tito, trying to trip him up with his paw. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so relaxed and, strangely, happy.

Rita trotted up beside him, "So Francis, you've gotten over your superiority complex then?" she grinned, her tail high and waving. It seemed to her that maybe Dodger did know how to get through to him.

Francis gave her a reluctant smile, but was panting too much to speak. He walked back to the barge with his friends- the only ones he'd had for quite some time, surrounding him. In spite of everything, he found himself looking forward to the experiences the next day would bring.


	6. Dodger in Charge

Francis leant in to the side of the trolley, getting to grips at last with riding around on the back of the erratically moving scooter. He was apprehensive; while he was more open to the idea of being 'helped' by the likes of Dodger than he had been the day before, it was all very alien to him and not at all the sort of life he'd choose to lead. Looking nervously out at the surrounding traffic, he wondered if the urchins would have him riding around on the tops of cars as they tended to. The others were chatting away, oblivious to his uncertainty. Francis didn't much feel like joining in, but nonetheless appreciated the company. Since forcing himself to join in with the ball game the night before, he'd been much more at ease with his canine companions. As he'd made the effort not to be quite so uptight, he found that the young Dodger was not so bad after all.

They all jumped out onto the pavement- some with more grace than others, and looked to Dodger expectantly.

"You've given up shirkin' your responsibilities this time, I hope?" Rita said, shaking herself to disturb the fine layer of dirt that had settled on her fur. She gave Dodger a look that told him quite clearly that a repeat of the previous day's performance would not be appreciated.

Francis squinted to avoid getting dust in his eyes. "Some might say that I would have been capable of competent leadership had those under my command not been so uncooperative," he said with a slight huff.

"No hard feelings, Francis," Rita smirked, "You were just a little premature with your leadership bid. Just show me that you're better at this than I am and I'll happily take direction."

"All right, we're not gonna get very far if you're just gonna walk everywhere," Dodger said to Francis, "It's about time we taught you the fine art of car surfing."

Francis had had a feeling this was coming, but was nonetheless apprehensive about the prospect. Having already decided to make the effort to try and adjust to this new, alien lifestyle, it was something that he'd just have to accept as part of the experience.

"I've been doin' it since I was six weeks old," Dodger was saying, "There's nothin' to it once you've had a little practice."

They wandered towards a busy road, following the young mutt's lead.

Rita turned to Francis, who looked as though he was about to be ill. "Hey, you want to try holding on to my tail? I'll judge the jumps and all you'll have to do is follow. I promise I won't go too fast."

Francis nodded and took Rita's long tail in his mouth. He looked on nervously as Dodger jumped up onto a stationery car with not the slightest hesitation. Francis couldn't believe that he was actually going to try such foolish stunts.

"Okay, Francis- up ya get," Dodger called down from the roof, "this one ain't even moving."

With some degree of difficulty, Francis pulled himself up onto the bonnet, almost dragging Rita down as he struggled. He wasn't well used to jumping around, having enjoyed a more sedentary lifestyle prior to his being abandoned. Already, Dodger was leaping onto the next car along, and Francis scrambled to follow as Rita set off.

"I'm not entirely sure this is a good idea, Dodger," Francis puffed, letting go of the tail. "How am I to avoid sliding off when they move under my feet? It is enough of a challenge to get around when they're stationery."

Dodger grinned, unconcerned. "Just relax. Move with the rhythm and it's easy."

"It's okay, Francis, you got this." Rita said reassuringly, and once again offered her tail to the bulldog. She was a little unsure of how well she'd be able to move around with such a large dog hanging onto her. "We're not gonna let you get run over or anything, so just try and enjoy yourself. You'll get the hang of it in no time."

Francis froze, staring at the road below the moving cars. As far as he was concerned, his friends were crazy. He appreciated Rita's offer to help, but felt she was asking rather a lot of him.

Tito was happy sliding around on the windscreen, oblivious to Francis' apprehension. Car surfing had come to him with no trouble at all, despite his little legs, largely because he was fearless and got a thrill out of the adrenaline rush that came with it.

"C'mon, Frankie!" Tito yelled from the taxi he was jumping around on.

"It's easy, Francis," Dodger called, "even a kid could do it."

"Come on, Francis, it's fun!" Einstein woofed, bounding over the anxious bulldog in merriment.

Francis groaned inwardly, but reluctantly took hold of the tail that was being waved in front of his face.

With little choice but to move forward, Francis jumped onto the next car after Rita. It wasn't far, and the traffic was thankfully still slowly crawling along, but if felt like a mammoth achievement.

"There ya go," Rita said, "first one's the hardest. Now let's catch up with the others."

Francis said nothing, as he had a mouth full of tail, but he gave Rita a meaningful look that he hoped she'd read as 'please don't let me fall to my death'.

Terrified though he was, Francis found himself running across the traffic, leaping dangerously between cars and somehow just managing to keep up with his crazy friends. Focussing on hanging on to Rita for guidance rather than fixating on the daredevil stunts that he has undertaking was helpful, but he soon tired and had to slam on the brakes to avoid being dragged into a mishap.

"Geez, Frankie!" Rita scowled, "I am attached to that tail, ya know."

Francis dropped Rita's tail and panted, getting his breath back. For someone who wasn't all that fit to begin with, being restricted to breathing only through one's nose was presenting a challenge. He'd also managed to pull out a load of hairs from the tail, which he didn't imagine would be much appreciated.

Rita slid back down onto the pavement to inspect the damage to her tail, and Francis happily followed. That was quite enough for a first attempt.

"Hey, Francis, not bad for your first try," Dodger said, setting down on the concrete beside them. "That should be far enough."

"Just try not to pull so much fur out next time," said Rita, a little irritably. At least the tail-holding had done the intended job.

"Your main problem, Francis," Dodger said, "is that you're way too tense, try loosenin' up a little. Feel the beat and move with it. Once you got the rhythm down you won't even have to think what you're doin'."

Francis wasn't totally convinced. This 'rhythm' that Dodger kept talking about seemed like a load of nonsense to him.

"It'll come to you," Rita added, seeing the look on Francis' face. She hadn't expected him to so willingly go along with their attempts to help him, not after the resistance he'd given in the past, but it seemed that he was trying now, and Rita was sure that would be all the difference.

"Can we go and find some food now?" asked Einstein, "I'm starving."

Dodger grinned. "Sure," he said, "think you're up for the challenge, Francis?"

Francis nodded, apprehensive though he was. After the less than successful outing the day before, he was happy to follow Dodger's lead in knowledge that it was his best chance of eating well.

They headed off- sticking to the pavement for the time being for Francis' benefit, with Dodger taking the lead and Tito leaping around under his feet. Somehow Dodger managed to avoid tripping over the little dog, keeping up a confident strut the whole time. He sniffed the air as he went and followed a delicious scent until they came near to a taco joint.

Einstein drooled hungrily. The scent of meat cooking was all but irresistible. Even Francis, who had previously been firmly opposed to stealing, was seeing the merits of taking advantage of such tasty offerings rather than picking through trash.

Dodger looked Francis over. He really wasn't built for stealth; he was wide-set, too broad to sneak through the many human legs unnoticed; he had next to no muzzle, which meant he'd be unable to snatch much without pushing his whole head forward- now that Dodger really thought about it, picking pockets would be near impossible for Francis. Sending him in there to swipe tacos could only end in disaster, and Dodger was not fool enough to risk it. Surely though, he could still be of some use though. Francis was conspicuous enough, perhaps he could create a diversion somehow.

"Okay, Francis, do ya feel up to making a scene, gettin' a crowd goin' so we can get in and take some tacos? Make out you're hurt or something." Dodger said, hoping that Francis' ease in being near to humans would see him hold his nerves where a lot of street dogs would scarper.

Francis surveyed the scene. It was busy, and it would be a challenge to build an audience, but it seemed to him a task preferable to actually getting in and stealing. He suddenly felt something near excitement; it would be a chance to put his acting knowledge to use.

"No rush, just go when you're ready," said Rita quietly. Already she had crouched in anticipation, poised to run in at the right moment.

Francis nodded and continued studying the humans he had to impress and working out his plan of attack. Ignoring Tito's egging him on behind him, he moved forward, ready to put on a show. He came near to the tables, limping with more and more exaggeration in each step. He groaned, his eyes rolled and he stumbled to the ground. Gasping people soon surrounded him, concerned for the poor, apparently dying dog.

The rest of the dogs looked on in awe. This was more than Dodger could have expected- Francis had all of those moron humans totally fooled. Pulling their eyes away from the impressive scene, they moved in quietly. Einstein, the least stealthy of the four, easily grabbed a taco that was comfortably within his reach on the nearest table. The other three crept in further, every now and then glancing over to the scene that Francis had created. Tito found himself in a spot of trouble when he jumped onto a table to get at a morsel, which was big enough that he fell over it as he made to get down. Hearing the crash of Tito falling onto the chair, Rita swiftly glided over to him, wanting to get him out of there before he messed up the whole operation. With her mouth full of taco, Rita could only manage a few quiet grunts to encourage Tito to clamber onto her back. She ran past Dodger, who was going back for seconds.

With Dodger making a second retreat, Rita shouted out to Francis, calling him back. Needing no more encouragement, the bulldog made a hasty exit, leaving the concerned onlookers baffled. He has met with loud and enthusiastic cheers from his comrades.

"I think ya earned this, Francis," Dodger said with a smirk, nudging his second taco towards the bulldog. "Best take these outta the way, won't be long before they'll be on our tails."

It wasn't far to a building site where the dogs settled in the shelter of a huge concrete pipe. Tito slid down from Rita's back, leaving behind him a mess of meat, cheese and salsa over her neck and in her long fur.

"Where'd ya learn to do that, Francis?" Rita said, shaking some of the debris from her ears, "I've never seen anything like that!"

"You really got somethin' there, Francis," said Dodger, still overwhelmed by the surprise talent of his new recruit. If they could all keep working together like they'd just done, they might really be on to something good. "How was it?"

"That was… exhilarating. They all believed it." Francis was beaming. "It was almost as though I were a true thespian."

"They were eatin' out of your paw, man!" Tito exclaimed, still buzzing from the thrill of the taco heist.

Everyone happily tucked in. With his taco polished off, Einstein greedily eyed the scraps in Rita's fur.

"Go ahead, just watch the drool," Rita said, her mouth half-full. Very soon she had all four of them licking the meat from her fur. Finally cleaned up, she sprawled out, relaxed, content and better fed than she'd been in a while.

With full bellies, the five of them lazed around under the shade of the pipe.

"I've not eaten so well in ages," Rita smiled, kicking her legs in the air as she rolled onto her back, "we make quite the team, huh?"

"The very best," Dodger said, stretching out.

* * *

As the afternoon rolled around, thoughts turned to bringing back some loot for Fagin, and Dodger led the gang onwards as they began the search. Pleased with his earlier achievements, Francis came along happily, and the mood was light and carefree.

Dodger threw himself into his role as leader, something that was all new to him, yet somehow felt right. It was very different to the position he'd had with just Rita and Einstein around- there had never been much need to give a lot of direction when it was just the three of them. Thoughts that had previously played on his mind, of perhaps leaving Fagin and striking out on his own, were far away. He was happily caught up in enjoying his larger circle of friends. Dodger still managed to flirt with passing girls while playing up to the admiration of his friends, with Tito more than happy to join him- and at one point Rita even took advantage of their distraction to relieve one pretty young dog of her lunch. They passed the day away, together collecting enough bits and bobs to keep Fagin happy, and intermittently engaging in games of chase through the traffic- which Francis still opted to sit out. They had a brief run-in with a dog catcher, but Dodger easily kept the two 'learner' street dogs out of harm's way. The sense of responsibility gave the young mutt a new purpose, and suddenly nothing was more important to him than to do justice to his new role. It felt like he was building something strong, something that had real meaning to him, a true family of his own… perhaps filling the hole that had been left in him when his mother walked out all those months ago.

Having made their way back to Fagin's scooter- with even Francis tentatively taking up the pursuit of car surfing, they waited together for their master's return, relaxing and laughing in the late afternoon sun. A corner had been turned, and for the first time since Fagin brought Francis and Tito home, they were a functioning unit- and one that Dodger knew could become a force to be reckoned with, the best band of street dogs one could hope to find.

"This is the life, hey Dodgie?" Rita said, rolling onto her side and playfully prodding the mutt with her paw.

"Sure is, gorgeous," Dodger replied with a wink. "Everything we need, right here."


	7. Rita and Scout

Rita's eye was suddenly caught by a canine figure approaching- it was Scout. She barked a welcome, but waited for him to come to her.

Dodger, who was not a huge fan of Rita's boyfriend, frowned at the sight. It had been going so well, the five of them working together, and Scout was only going to get in the way of that.

"Ooh, is it Rita's _boyfriend_?" Tito laughed, jumping up onto the back of a disgruntled Francis to catch a better look.

Scout sauntered over and dropped a pigeon that he'd caught at Rita's paws, "Hi princess, are you hungry?" he asked, looking at Rita lovingly.

"She's already eaten some real food," Dodger said quickly, "Maybe you should try it yourself sometime." He couldn't see why anyone would willingly choose to eat raw, feathery vermin when there was plenty of proper food ripe for the taking all around them. The shepherd just didn't have the nerve to take advantage of it.

Rita angrily nipped at Dodger's ear, "Cut it out, will you?" She turned back to Scout and smiled, "Hi, baby. I'm not hungry right now, but thanks." Stepping over the pigeon, she moved in to nuzzle his neck, ignoring the kissy noises Tito was mockingly making behind her.

"Are you finished work today?" Scout asked hopefully, "It'd be great to hang out- just the two of us, I've hardly seen you recently."

Though she'd been enjoying the day spent with the gang all together, Rita knew that it _had _been too long since she'd been with Scout, and it would make for the perfect end to a great day. She ignored the sniggers coming from behind her- Tito probably. "I'm all done. Do you want to go for a long walk, and then just go from there?"

Scout beamed his response, and picked up the pigeon in his jaws before starting on his way, knowing that Rita would follow.

As she moved to follow after Scout, Rita noticed that Dodger looked a little crestfallen. It did seem a shame to put an end to what had been the only successful day out all together since Francis and Tito turned up, and Rita guessed that Dodger didn't want to see it over either. She turned back to him and nipped at him once more, though this time playfully. "I'll see you round, Dodgie-baby, shouldn't be too late."

Dodger seemed to cheer up a little- Rita's flirting usually had that effect on him, and she could go on her way content in the knowledge that he understood that this part of her life was important too. Every now and then, Dodger would be a bit too snarky towards Scout, but he was quick to tone it down as soon as it began to bother Rita. She wasn't stupid; she knew full well that neither Scout nor Dodger liked one another much, but had no intention of compromising on either relationship- she was entitled to enjoy both her childhood best friend and her dashing sweetheart, and they'd both just have to live with it.

Once Rita caught up with Scout, they walked side by side, close enough they would brush gently against one another every now and then. Rita loved the feeling. With his feathered meal all finished and the last drops licked from his lips, Scout took the opportunity to have a serious talk.

The shepherd gazed over Rita admiringly. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" He loved the way she smiled when he said it. "I've been thinking, Rita, we've got something pretty good going on between the two of us. I know sometimes I feel like I don't understand you at all- I mean that thing with the human is still pretty weird to me, but I also know how you make me feel. I just wonder if we're really moving forward?"

Rita smiled and rubbed her head against his shoulder. "It feels good, me and you. You're wonderful, Scout, a real gentleman- and I don't come across many of them. I'm happy the way things are right now, we have a lot of fun," she hesitated, "is there something more you want?"

Scout stopped and sat down. "Yes. What it comes down to is that I want you to be my mate- properly I mean, not just running off together every few nights for light-hearted- but very enjoyable- hook ups. I want to be with you all the time. Sooner or later we're going to have to live together if this is really going to go anywhere. I don't mean right away, but I'd like to know that that's where we're heading."

For a moment Rita was too stunned to speak. At not even a year old, she hadn't thought of the relationship as anything serious- just a bit of fun as she was growing up and exploring a different side to herself. "I… Scout, I don't know where I want us to go with this. I'm not ready to commit to anything real serious, I'm still sorta working myself out. You're important to me, you really are, but I can't tell you that I'll turn my back on my family for you, I just can't!" This really wasn't turning out to be the evening she'd had in mind. Scout looked hurt, but he was asking too much of her and there was no getting away from that.

"It's just a human, they abandon dogs all the time, it's no big deal. Besides, you're training up those new guys, they can take your place," Scout said hopefully, but seeing Rita's expression harden, he hastily added, "I don't expect anything to happen overnight, but just think about it, all right? We could have a real future together- maybe even a litter within the next year."

All of a sudden, Rita just wanted to be home. How could she possibly enjoy the night with Scout she'd been anticipating when his idea of their relationship was so different to hers? The mood had been completely ruined. She couldn't believe how easy it was for him to disregard everything that mattered to her.

"Sweetie, you're asking too much from me," Rita said, turning away. "I want to be with you, but I can't leave my family. I just can't." She looked back to him, trying to stay calm. "I thought things were right between us the way we are now; we've got all our lives to get serious and settle down, let's just enjoy ourselves while we're young. I'm hardly more than a pup myself, there's no way I'm even thinking about having any of my own."

Scout was disheartened, but didn't want to spoil their time together- it would only be too soon before Rita would be running back to Dodger and their human. "All right, I'm sorry I said anything. If it's really too much for you to consider right now, can you at least try and find more time for me? I can't help feeling that you'd rather be around Dodger."

Rita was grateful that Scout didn't want to push anything for the time being, but still unnerved. "I know I should be making more of an effort, but things have been pretty crazy back home recently- you know that. You also knew when we started this that my family is my first priority, and that includes Dodger. There's nothin' going on between us, and if you can't trust me that's your problem," she spoke with a growl, but then softened a little. "I want to be with you, Scout, just don't try and rush me, and don't expect me to be able to just walk away from Fagin just because you don't like humans."

"Okay, okay," Scout affectionately nibbled at Rita's ear, hoping to smooth things over, "we can just keep things as they are for now." Disappointed though he was, he didn't want to cause a fall-out, and Rita was obviously not going to budge on the matter. He decided it best to wait a while before continuing to voice his displeasure about her hanging around Dodger all day.

Rita nuzzled back. "I'm going to try harder. I'll find time to see you every day, we'll make it work."

"So do you want to find somewhere to snuggle up for a little while?"

"Honey, I'm not really feeling it right now. We had a busy day today and I just want to crash out," Rita said, no longer in the mood for a romantic night out, "Tomorrow, I promise. I'll finish up early so we can spend most of the day together, get something to eat, and then enjoy all the snuggling your heart desires." She kissed his face tenderly, "It'll be worth the wait."

Scout sighed. "I guess I can live with that," he whispered, and he softly kissed her. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon then. Love you, Rita."

Rita nuzzled him, again feeling that he was more invested in the relationship than she was. It was uncomfortable, like she was somehow letting him down. "See you tomorrow, Scout," was all she could say in return.

* * *

Arriving back at the barge after a long walk to clear her head, Rita felt oddly queasy. To even have been discussing her walking out on the gang after the last time filled her with guilt, and she found herself resenting Scout forcing that on her. She was left confused by the state of the relationship. Rita thought that she owed it to herself and to Scout to keep trying with it, but suddenly her heart wasn't in it anymore. It felt rather like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her and shocked to her senses. For the time being, it seemed that Scout had accepted her stance on the matter and they could carry on keeping things casual. She decided that it was worth a shot.

Rita came downstairs to find everyone already home and happily lounging around. Dodger was lying sprawled out on his belly in front of the television, casually switching his attention intermittently between the baseball game that was playing and Tito's lively recount of his great escape from his previous home. Not long ago, such a tale would have gotten on Rita's nerves, but she'd since gotten over her feelings about the little dog's running away. She wouldn't be quick to admit it, but Tito had grown on her a lot. Hearing her come down, Dodger offered Rita a quick glance of recognition before promptly turning his attention back to Tito's tale. Francis had crashed out a little while away, appearing dead to the world. It wasn't a surprise considering he'd almost certainly never had such a busy day in his life. Rita couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, and looked around for Einstein. The Great Dane was in the corner of the barge with Fagin, who was pulling through a pile of bits and bobs apparently looking for something.

"Lost something, Einstein?" Rita called to him.

Einstein looked up, surprised, and grinned at the sight of his friend. "Fagin's looking for my Frisbee. Do you remember? We used to play with it all the time. Someone must have put it somewhere. Fagin says it will be more fun to play with that than the ball," he said.

It occurred to Rita that it was more likely that the old toy had been thrown into the water accidentally at some point and lost forever. It always did fly in a wonky sort of manner.

"If we find it, do you want to come play?" Einstein asked earnestly.

Rita smiled. "Sure, I will. Don't bet on gettin' a game outta Frankie though, he looks like he'll be staying put for a long time."

With a wag of his tail, Einstein went back to merrily ploughing through the grimy contents of the barge. Even if he didn't find the Frisbee, he was happy to be helping Fagin.

Leaving them to it, Rita retreated back to her bed, still feeling like she'd somehow betrayed them through the conversation she'd had with Scout. She tried not to let it bother her- after all, she _had _set him straight. Hopefully she'd be able to somehow keep Scout happy without sacrificing time she should be spending with the gang. Aside from any responsibility she felt, she'd had a wonderful time with her friends and imagined she would have been happier had Scout not turned up that afternoon. She wasn't about to miss out on that just to satisfy a relationship that now didn't seem likely to be long-lived. Her eyelids drooping, Rita welcomed a sleep after what had been a very busy day.

* * *

By the time Rita had woken from her nap it must have been late as everyone else seemed to be snoring and the barge dark. It seemed Einstein hadn't found the Frisbee after all; he surely would have woken her if the opportunity for a game had arisen. Perhaps it was just as well that she'd missed out on an evening with her friends, she still felt as though she'd wronged them. Cursing Scout's ruining things, Rita lay her head back down.

"You been avoiding me, Rita-girl?" Dodger's voice caused Rita to lift her head back up.

She scoffed. "I was tired, that's all. I hate to break it to you, handsome, but my life doesn't revolve around you."

Dodger smirked and shifted himself around so he could talk to her easier. "So, how was the boyfriend? You two have fun?"

"It was all right," Rita said with a shrug. She wanted to really talk to Dodger, but knew he'd react badly if he knew what they'd been discussing. Treading carefully, she added, "I'm actually not sure it's working for me."

"Whatcha mean? You looked pretty into him from where I was standing! Somethin' happened?" Dodger raised an eyebrow. Something was weird here. Maybe that boring, vermin-eating shepherd wasn't meeting her needs… if that were the case Dodger was more than happy to supplement his efforts.

"I'm just not sure we're a good match, that's all. I'm gonna keep seeing him for now, but I'm not sure it'll last long. He's a nice guy and I like him, but I'm not sure how I really feel anymore."

"Well, that was vague," said Dodger. There wasn't a lot he could do with that information. "You're okay though, right?"

Rita nodded. "Yeah, fine. I'm fine," Having had enough of thinking about Scout, she steered the conversation away. "What about you? Did you just hang out with the guys after I left?"

Dodger yawned, taking the hint. "Pretty much. I came across this spaniel and I got her talkin'. Could tell she wanted me but then Tito came over to 'help me out'. Kid's got a lot to learn about winning over the ladies."

"You better fix him up, don't want him cramping your style," Rita said with a laugh. She went quiet for a moment, lost in thought. "Do you think they're going to stick around? Francis and Tito, I mean."

Dodger glanced over to the newcomers. They were lying together, Tito perched atop his friend's broad back. "I know he's been putting up a fight, but I reckon Francis is pretty happy. They'll stick around."

"You know what, Dodgie," Rita said, "I hope so. I didn't like either of them at first- don't tell them-"

Dodger laughed. "Rit, they know ya didn't like 'em. It was fairly obvious."

"-but actually this feels nice," she continued, "like they're part of the family now. I can't see how there's anywhere else for Francis to go anyway, this is about as much he could hope for. And he wouldn't go nowhere without Tito."

"I don't think Tito's plannin' on runnin' back home to be a lap dog anytime soon. They're home for good," Dodger said confidently. "We're a family now; all of us. Just you wait, once I got them trained up like I did with you, we're gonna be runnin' this city."

Rita laid her head down and rested her eyes. The guilt she'd been feeling had faded somewhat- she knew exactly where her loyalties lay, and Scout could accept it or look elsewhere for a mate. How could she even consider walking away when the future with her family looked brighter than ever? She curled herself up so that her tail fell over her face, ready to go back to sleep. "Sounds like you're going to be busy," she murmured.

Dodger smiled a little and rested his head in a cushion. He could hear the sleepiness coming through in Rita's voice; it seemed she was ready to call it a night. "Yeah. I'd better get some sleep, huh? G'dnight, Rita."

Already, Rita was almost dozing off. She made a soft noise that was close to a 'goodnight', knowing that Dodger would get the message. Feeling far more content than she had been, she soon drifted off into a peaceful sleep.


	8. Mother

Taking up his new role of leader of the gang took a little adjustment, but Dodger found himself happy with the change. Now that he'd garnered some respect from Francis, he actually had a good deal of influence. More than anything, they just had fun together, and any urges Dodger previously had to strike out on his own had dissipated; the challenge of making Francis and Tito into capable street dogs was keeping him busy, and their relationships getting ever closer. Tito idolised Dodger, following him around wherever he went, seemingly hoping to pick up some of the older dog's talent for attracting girls. Once Tito got his head around the basics and was no longer driving away young ladies whom Dodger was trying to chat up, the young mutt was happy to have an accomplice.

Come late afternoon, Rita took off with Scout, as per the routine she'd got herself into. Dodger would take this as his cue that work was over and that it was time to enjoy himself- not that his work day was ever particularly strenuous to begin with. It seemed to him that for someone who was having doubts, Rita was very determined to keep the romance going, and he wondered if there was something more to it. Dodger didn't, however, worry himself with it all; Rita could handle herself perfectly fine and he had his own fun to be had.

This evening, Dodger was on his own. Tito had dashed off home to lay claim to control over the television set before Francis did- which wasn't much of a challenge as the bulldog was still getting the hang of car surfing and always took a while to get home, especially as he had a tendency to get lost. As much as he was enjoying his new larger family, having the space to just be on his own was welcome for Dodger. He headed down to the docks, past the turn he'd usually take to go home to the barge. There was an old disused warehouse down there which was gradually becoming a place for social gatherings of street dogs. A shaggy brown mutt had been the first to claim the space, and he happily hosted visiting canines from all walks of life. The result was that there was almost always dogs around to hang out with- and the steady stream of dogs moving through the place meant that it was the perfect spot to pick up girls.

For a long while, Dodger busied himself with chatting up a pretty young mixed-breed, who seemed quite taken with him. Interested though the bitch was, she was rather slow in moving forward with it all. She did allow Dodger a lick to her cheek and an invitation to meet up with him again the next day, but that was the extent of it. Quitting while he was ahead, Dodger sauntered out around the back, where loud voices signalled that there was fun to be had. He scanned the crowd hopefully, and his eyes fell on another female who was laughing as two young males fawned over her.

Dodger froze. That face was familiar… stirring up the faintest of memories. She was wiry haired, squarely built, her ears folding over at the top, and her eyes bright and hard. If she wasn't a pure fox terrier than it was certainly the main contributor to her appearance. Suddenly Dodger's mouth was very dry. He knew who it was, he'd seen her in stained, creased photographs. It was his mother; the mother who'd walked out on him when he was little over a month old. It wasn't possible, it couldn't be. Einstein had always said that Dodger's mother had left because she desperately needed to get back home to her master, but there was no master here. She wasn't even wearing a collar. Had it all been a lie? Feeling as if he was going to be sick, Dodger moved closer, unable to take his eyes off her. Surely he was dreaming… this couldn't be real.

The bitch looked around and saw the young dog staring. She smiled, liking what she saw and approached. "Hi there," she said, continuing to look the newcomer over- much to the apparent annoyance of the two dogs who had been enjoying her attention.

A scent hit Dodger, a final confirmation that he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. Somehow a scent that had been so comforting to him, a promise of his mother close by, now repulsed him. It simply didn't make sense.

"You come around here often, sweetheart?" she was saying, though Dodger could barely hear.

Dodger pulled himself from his trance. Something wasn't right, it didn't feel as though she knew him. With a jolt, he realised that she was making a move on him. He pulled away abruptly as his mother moved close, brushing up against him.

"What are you doin' here?" Dodger finally managed to stammer out. "You went to your master- what are you…?"

For a moment the mother looked perplexed. Then her expression changed, and she laughed. "Oh, it's you. I didn't recognise you, you're all grown up. I knew you didn't need a mother around. What did I call you, kid?"

Dodger couldn't speak. He couldn't take it in… she was here, and she barely knew him.

The two dogs that flanked the mother sniggered. "I didn't think you were the maternal type, Layla?" the larger of the two asked snidely.

The mother turned her attention back to her suitors. "Oh, I really am not. This was an accident, guess I got a little too careless," she laughed, "You know, I don't even know who the father was, although…" she looked over Dodger, "I think I can narrow it down."

Dodger could feel sick rising up from his stomach. He couldn't stand it- she looked at him as though he was nothing; worse than nothing, some embarrassing mistake she'd once made. He looked at her, trying to forge some sort of a connection, but she just kept looking straight through him. "Your master… you went to your master?"

"There was no one. Listen, kid, do you think I could have lived my life the way I wanted with some whiny pup in tow?" she laughed. "I never intended getting knocked up in the first place. You had that dopey Dane wanting to keep you, so all I had to do was make up an excuse and get outta there. I could just forget it ever happened. And you know what, sugar? That's exactly what I've been doing." Seemingly bored, she turned away and rubbed up against one of her suitors. "I didn't have to stick around as long as I did, you should be grateful."

Unable to take it anymore, Dodger waited until his mother looked away from him and then he ran. He stumbled and fell against a wall and then finally couldn't stop himself from being sick any longer. He was shaking, the words still echoing in his ears even over the sounds of his distressed breathing. His mother didn't want him, she'd never wanted him. It was though he'd stumbled into his worst nightmare, the fears that had haunted him since he was just a pup; the ones he'd kept to himself, never telling a soul. And now it was real, no way to escape, no waking from the horror. Memories of that dreadful morning; a pup of just a month old waking excitedly and rushing to greet the mother he'd loved- whom he'd always assumed had loved him back. But she was gone, leaving Einstein to impart on the tiny child what he could never accept; that his own mother loved some human more than she did him. Even that had been nothing but a cruel lie; the truth was that the only person his mother loved was herself, and as long as she was happy it simply didn't matter that her child would spend the next week crying himself to sleep.

Barely able to see where he was going through the tears that he desperately tried to keep from falling, Dodger ran on, going home to the only security he could rely on. He came down into the barge and collapsed in despair, sobbing as the weight of it all came crashing down. He couldn't handle it, it was too much; everything flooded back to him but with the added dreadful knowledge that even his own mother couldn't love him. What, then, did that make Dodger?

* * *

At first Rita thought she was imagining it, but the sounds grew louder as she came to the stairs. It sounded as though someone was crying- sobbing. Very quickly she was filled with concern- what was going on? To her knowledge, everyone was out for the day, she'd headed home relatively early. Quietly coming down the stairs, she listened, worried.

"Dodge?" She called out gently, not believing it. Dodger didn't cry. Never. "Is that you?"

The mutt was shaking, biting at his forelegs as he sobbed, apparently void of any control. He did not appear to have even noticed that she was there, almost as if in a trance. Had it been anyone else, Rita would have been concerned enough had it been any of the others- but Dodger quite simply didn't put on a show of his emotions. Something was seriously, horribly wrong, and Rita instantly became fearful.

"Dodgie!" Rita approached cautiously, having no idea how he'd react to her being there, but knew she couldn't let him keep hurting himself like that. He still didn't look at her, caught up in the grief that had left him spiralling out of control. Trusting her instincts, Rita draped herself around him and placed her head under his, preventing him from biting. For a moment he struggled, pulling away, but then gave in pressed himself up against her, and cried into her neck. Rita was stunned, and realised that she herself was shaking. "Dodge, what happened?" No response.

Finally calming down, it dawned on Dodger that the barge was not the most discreet place to let it all out; he had to get out of there before anyone else saw him. What had he been thinking? "I gotta get outta here, Rita, I gotta go." He panted, out of breath after a fit of hyperventilating. Getting to his feet, he was light-headed, but moved quickly toward the door.

Rita made to follow, but stopped herself, not wanting to make anything worse. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Reluctantly, Dodger nodded. It was too late to hide this from her, and if he was honest with himself, he really did want her there to lean on. Her presence seemed to be helping, just a little.

The young dogs found a quiet spot, out of the way so they wouldn't be disturbed. Dodger lay down and looked out at the water, his mind still screaming at him. Any hope that it was all just a terrible nightmare had faded, and he could see no way out from the torment that raged inside him. He jumped as he felt Rita's tongue against his leg. Seeing that she was tending to the small wounds left behind from his lapse of self-control, he settled down and watched her in silence. Every time he went to swallow it caught in his throat, and it was all that he could do to keep himself from starting to cry all over again. The shame of it was hard to take; he had never wanted Rita to see him like this. Still he said nothing. He couldn't and he wouldn't.

Rita had managed to stop shaking, and was left feeling confusion and a deep sadness. She was at a loss as to what to do for her friend, with no idea of what could have sent him into such a state. Gently, rested her head on top of Dodger's, hoping that her being near would at least be of some comfort to him. For a long while they sat in silence. He seemed to be gradually calming down.

"You don't mind stayin' out with me tonight, do ya? I can't face goin' home right now." Dodger spoke quietly, embarrassed and hurting.

"Whatever you need, hon. Just let me know if there's anything else I can do."

Dodger rested his head down. "This is enough."

Rita fought the urge to probe him for an explanation. It was clear that he didn't want to talk about whatever it was that had caused him such distress. As she lay down her head next to Dodger's, it dawned on her that she'd missed meeting up with Scout as they'd arranged. She knew that he would not have been thrilled to be stood up, but it seemed unimportant in that moment. If Dodger needed her, then by her friend's side was where she would stay.

* * *

Dodger awoke the next day with Rita still huddled up beside him. It had been a great comfort to have her there, giving him that little bit of reassurance that he was not, entirely, unwanted. Still, it had been a great dent to his pride, and he wondered what Rita must think of him now- he'd shown himself to be weak, a victim to his own emotions. He was determined that the damage to his reputation would end at that, no one else was to know anything. Hurting though he was, Dodger knew he'd have to hide it all; this was his burden to carry and his alone.

Rita stirred. "How're you feeling, Dodge?" she asked sleepily, gazing at her friend through tired eyes.

"I'm fine," Dodger forced a smile, hoping that he could talk down the previous night's meltdown. "It was nothin', really. Just somethin' I had to get outta my system I s'ppose." He could tell by her expression that she wasn't convinced, but there was no way he could let on what the problem was- he could very well lose control over himself a second time. "Anyway, I'm over it."

"You think I'm stupid?" Rita sat up, bristling instantly, "That was not nothing! Whatever the problem is, it's obviously hurt you bad. You can't just force yourself to cover it all up, you'll make yourself sick."

"Last night…" Dodger's voice wobbled, and for a moment he feared that he'd lose control all over again, "Last night was a mess; I'm not going through that again. It's all over, Rita. Don't try and make me talk about it." Scared of finding himself back in that dark place, he got to his feet and made to walk off. He had to force the thoughts of his mother out of his mind; he had to get away from Rita's attempts to help. "Not a word to anyone else, got it?" It came out harsher than he intended, and he could tell from the look on her face that he'd hurt her feelings, but in that moment he really didn't care- he just had to get away.

Rita stared after him as he stormed off. "Dodge…" The feeling of being completely powerless to help was hard to take. Seeing Dodger in such a bad way the night before had shaken Rita deeply- he'd always been so together, never one to get down. More than anything she wanted to be there for him; as he had always been there for her, but she knew she couldn't force the matter. She let him go, and feeling miserable, got to her feet to head out into the city streets. There was little to do except to try and carry on as normal; she couldn't let on to anyone else that there was a problem, not without making the situation ten times worse. It occurred to Rita that she'd better find Scout to make up for letting him down the night before, but she didn't want to face him. If she was honest, she didn't really care about his petty concerns that she was being a poor girlfriend, and she was in no mood to be lectured… her mind was on Dodger. Why wouldn't he let her be there for him?


	9. Parental Advice

Having successfully scrounged a few scraps for breakfast, Rita returned to hang around the barge, hoping that Dodger would make an appearance. Eventually giving up, she headed out towards the pawn shop near which Fagin tended to park his scooter. It seemed her best chance of catching up with her friends who had left for the day. As for Dodger… Rita suspected that he'd be actively avoiding her, and with a million places he could be hiding, it didn't seem likely that she'd get the chance to try and talk to him about what had happened the night before. She was worried. To see Dodger in such a fragile emotional state was confronting, and she couldn't help but imagine all the trouble he could get into while his head was all over the place- it wasn't as if he wasn't reckless at the best of times.

A small, furry blur whizzed between Rita's legs as she came to the scooter. She looked down after it and felt something large crash hard into her head.

"Ouch- watch it!" Rita cried, briefly seeing stars.

Francis fell back onto his rear.

"Ah, there you are," said Francis, slightly dazed. "We had been quite curious as to where you and Dodger had been all night."

Tito came scuttling back underneath Rita. "You two have some fun last night, huh?" Tito asked and started to laugh. It seemed fairly obvious to him what had happened.

"What?" Rita exclaimed, "Tito, don't be stupid. I was with Scout all night, it's nothing to do with me what Dodger gets up to. You've not seen him at all?"

Not entirely convinced, Tito nonetheless stopped laughing. It appeared that Rita was in a foul mood and he thought it best to avoid antagonising her… that girl could pack a mean bite.

"We've not seen him since yesterday, when we all had lunch together," said Einstein, peering around the corner. "I hope he's not hurt."

Rita shrugged, trying to come across as unconcerned. "You know Dodge, he's fairly prone to staying out late. He was probably just having too much fun to come home."

It seemed that was all the explanation needed, and the attention of the dogs went back to finding loot for Fagin. With Dodger not around, Rita took the lead. She didn't really feel like taking care of everyone, not while her mind was elsewhere, but someone had to step up. The morning wasn't without its hiccups; at one point, Tito had been fiddling around with an electric wire and was shot backwards with a jolt. After a frantic few moments trying to ascertain that the little dog was okay, Rita, Francis and Einstein were bewildered to find Tito quickly back up on his feet. Apparently he'd been trying to turn a light off just by playing with the wiring. Rita was quite certain that the feisty pup would get himself in serious trouble someday with his boundless and fearless curiosity. Soon enough, Tito was running around again with the ever-cheerful Einstein. The Great Dane was glad to have finished work to the day and his attention was now on playing with his tiny friend, oblivious to the worry that Rita was still feeling.

Rita stared out into the foot-traffic that surrounded her, lost in thought. All day she'd been keeping an eye out, hoping that Dodger would make an appearance, but there was still no sign of him. She couldn't shake the image in her head of poor Dodger completely losing control, crying as though his world was collapsing. She wanted to snuggle close to him, to make it all better… or even to at least do _something_. Surely he wasn't in a good state to be all on his own.

Dragging herself back to reality, Rita looked around for her friends. Tito and Einstein had disappeared, taking their game of chase away from their companions. Francis was sitting on the pavement, gazing up at a colourful poster.

Rita joined Francis to examine the poster that he was intently studying. "Can you read it?" she asked.

"To an extent," the bulldog said, his eyes scanning the paper, "Some of the words are familiar. It's 'Much Ado about Nothing'- Shakespeare. It says, I believe, that it is to be performed in the park. Sadly, I can't understand the dates they've written." He frowned, but kept looking at the poster all the same, just in case he might suddenly be able to decipher the numbers if he stared hard enough.

"It's later this month, I think." Rita squinted at the lettering. She was not particularly good at reading; it was all a load of human nonsense, but she could manage a small amount.

Francis turned to look at her, flabbergasted, "You can read?"

She nodded. "A little. I know what my own name looks like because it was on my tag. We've got a calendar back home, I can recognise the numbers and months on it. Otherwise I might miss my birthday. It's just a few days away… my first."

"I don't suppose you're expecting us to throw you a party? I didn't realise we were in the practice of celebrating birthdays." Francis said sniffily.

Rita laughed, pleased to have her mind taken away from Dodger. "I'm not angling for a party, I just want to know that I've got through a whole year," she suddenly looked a little embarrassed, "From what I've heard, a lot of puppies on the streets don't live to see their first birthday… I know I've had it easy, living with Fagin and all that, but it feels like a milestone. Like I'll have made it."

"I see." Francis said, turning his head to look back at the poster, "So if I were to feel the urge to push you under a bus, you'd rather I waited until after your birthday?"

_So he does have a sense of humour in there_, thought Rita. "That would be great, thanks," She looked at the poster, curious about her companion's great interest in it. "What is this Shakespeare thing anyway?"

Francis' eyes popped- surely even a common street waif should have heard of _Shakespeare_. "The Bard of Avon!" he exclaimed, "William Shakespeare was a genius, writer of the greatest plays in the English language! 'Much Ado About Nothing' is one of his finest comedies. You are not familiar with any of his work?"

"Nope. Doesn't mean nothing to me."

Francis muttered to himself, something about uncultured youth, but was interrupted.

"Do you want to go see this? If it's in the park I could probably sneak you in, shouldn't be too hard. The theatre's near the castle, right?" Rita asked. She'd been feeling downright miserable all day, and an opportunity to make someone happy was welcome. Considering the ordeal of coming to terms with his new lifestyle, Francis was deserving of something to make him smile himself.

"You could do that? You would…?" the bulldog's eyes were wide, but no longer in disappointed astonishment. "I-I- I don't know what to say!" The very thought of spending an evening enjoying the very delights that he had so missed left him almost overwhelmed. "Thank you, you have my most sincere gratitude." It suddenly occurred to Francis that he had been far too quick in his initial assessment of Rita as a filthy and unsavoury character.

Rita smiled, to see the usually huffy Francis lit up like this lifted her own spirits. She realised that they were friends now, no longer associating just out of necessity. "Anytime. Does this mean you're not going to have to shove me under any buses?"

"No, no I would think not." Francis chuckled.

"Come on, we'd better get back to the others." Rita started off towards the street where they'd left Einstein and Tito, with a backward glance to Francis.

* * *

Several hours later, Dodger finally made an appearance, strutting around and humming as he went, looking for all the world like he hadn't a care. He knew very well that Rita would not be convinced, but was sure that the others would be oblivious to anything being amiss.

As expected, Rita came over quickly, a look of concern on her face. "Hey, Dodgie, where've you been all day?"

Tito ran over, and danced wildly under Dodger's feet. "Where ya been, man?

Taking a little while to respond to give the impression of being happily caught up in his own little world, Dodger looked over his friends with an apparently self-satisfied grin. Not wanting to give away that underneath the mask he was an emotional mess, he could do little to prevent Rita from raising suspicions. As much as he hoped she'd just keep it to herself and eventually forget about it, the worry on her face was not encouraging.

"Whoa, guys- can't I take a day to have some fun on my own anymore?" Dodger asked casually.

Einstein wagged his tail merrily, pleased to see his good friend. "That's okay, just as long as you come back to us. Do you want to play, Dodger?"

Satisfied that he'd convinced most of his friends, Dodger relaxed a little in spite of his inner turmoil.

Suddenly, Francis was startled by the appearance of a lanky brown hound with a mess of long fur on his head. The newcomer had approached quietly and seemingly come out of nowhere. Oddly, Dodger and Einstein barely batted an eyelid at the presence of some strange, scruffy dog, and Rita's face had lit up.

"Dad!" Rita exclaimed, and she moved in to nuzzle her father.

"Hi, Rita," Storm said, "you doin' okay?"

For a moment, Rita wanted to tell him about everything that was troubling her… but she certainly couldn't with Francis and Dodger there, and even if it were just the two of them it would be a breach of Dodger's trust and not worth it. "I'm fine," she said, "pretty busy, but I'm fine."

Dodger noticed the wary look on Francis' face. "You've not met Rita's old man yet, I take it?"

Francis shook his head. The resemblance between the two hounds was certainly there; the father had the same air of toughness about him that the bulldog found so intimidating in Rita. He didn't imagine that this dog would be someone to get on the wrong side of any more than his daughter was.

Tito charged up, growling and bouncing on his feet. Whoever this big stranger was would by no means intimidate him.

"Dad, this is Francis, and that little pain in the butt is Tito," said Rita, "they're the new guys."

Storm bowed his head in a low key greeting, and then turned his attention back to his daughter. To his eye, she looked stressed, as though something was troubling her. "You want to come hang out with me for a while? It's about time we caught up properly."

Rita smiled. Even if she couldn't really talk about her concerns for Dodger, it would only do her good to spend time with someone who was supportive regardless. "Yeah, that'd be nice. I've brought a few things back for Fagin, so there's no real need to stick around here."

"Best I have a quick word with all of you first," Storm said, his eyes lingering over Dodger whom he knew to be reckless. "I've been hearing a lot of rumours of disappearances- dogs in their prime just vanishing without a trace. I know they could've just been run over or something like that, but it seems to be happening a lot. Just make sure you keep your wits about you."

Dodger smirked. "Hey, you know me- always careful."

Storm was not daft enough to miss when he wasn't being taken seriously. "Watch yourself, kid. You're gonna wind up in trouble one of these days. Humour me, okay? Just be that bit more cautious."

"Anyone tries to take me, I'll give 'em a fight they won't forget!" shouted Tito, once again bristled up and bouncing, as if raring for an epic battle with some invisible foe. "I'll get 'em good, man!"

Rita ignored the display of bravado and gave her father a nod, apparently more inclined to take advice on board than Dodger and Tito. "We'll be careful. If something's goin' on, we'll try and stay well clear of anything weird," she said. While Dodger might be streetwise enough to stay out of trouble, she knew that Francis and Tito certainly were not, and she wouldn't put blundering into harm's way past Einstein either.

Satisfied that at least someone was listening, Storm relaxed a little and started to head onwards. He looked over his shoulder to Rita, inviting her to follow.

* * *

Together, Storm and Rita headed toward the park, a place where they'd spent many long days during the winter in which they'd lived side by side. Things had changed somewhat since then; Rita was all but grown up and no longer really needed the guidance of her father to get by, but the enjoyment they found playing in the park with one another was still the same. With the sun shining brightly, it was a beautiful afternoon for such frolicking, and for just a little while, Rita could forget about her worries.

Keeping a watchful eye out for dogcatchers, they trotted over to an ornate water fountain. Soon both dogs were lapping at the cool water and appreciating the refreshment it provided. Finding good places to drink could be a challenge in the city, but the park provided plenty. Rita looked over to her father as she leaned over the fountain. As always, he was giving off an aura of calm confidence, and it somehow left her feeling more content herself.

Storm looked up and smiled gently, sensing that Rita was feeling better. "So are you going to tell me what's been going on? You're not yourself, squirt; there's no point trying to hide it."

Rita started to stare at the water, as though avoiding eye contact with her father. She still couldn't say what had been troubling her, it just wouldn't be right. "I- I can't say. I'm worried about someone, but I can't tell you who or why. I want to help, but they won't let me. And Scout's been making life hard for me as well; he wants me to be his mate- like properly, leaving home and everything. I don't want it, Dad, but he always makes me feel beautiful, you know? I don't want to lose that either, not after I spent so long when I was a kid desperate for someone to love me. And then I'm trying to take care of the new guys as well. They're great and all, like suddenly I've got these new brothers, but I'm just tired of having to be the mature one all the time. I'm real tired."

Storm listened sympathetically. He wasn't in the practice of giving advice, not being used to having much in the way of company to give advice _to_. All the same, he made every effort to be helpful to his daughter wherever he could, even if she wasn't giving him a lot to go on. "Sounds like you're pretty much drained. I think an afternoon off from all your worries would do you a lot of good- and you can take time off being the grown-up as well, I'll take care of that role for you."

Looking back to meet her father's gaze, Rita smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Dad," she said quietly.

"It'll be easier for you to know the way forward if your head's not all over the place," said Storm, "I'll try and cheer you up a bit, and then hopefully you'll be in a good space to work the rest out. And if there's anything I _can _do for you, I'll be hanging around your neck of the woods for a while; don't be afraid to come for help."

"I hope you're right," Rita said, "I've actually been avoiding Scout since I missed a date we were supposed to have yesterday- something came up that was more important. I know he's gonna give me a hard time, but I just can't face it right now. Guess I'm a real coward."

Storm nuzzled her shoulder. "Not a coward, just a kid who's a bit overwhelmed. You're doing fine, Rita." He took one last drink before licking the remaining droplets from his whiskers and beginning his walk further into the park. "Come on, it sounds like you're overdue a bit of fun."

The little bit of reassurance her father had given Rita went a long way. In his company, it was easy to forget all her troubles- almost as though she was back in the days when it was just the two of them; no responsibilities, no clingy boyfriend, and the happy assumption that Dodger was perfectly fine. Soon, she was merrily rolling in the grass, laughing at Storm as he squirmed around on his back, his legs kicking in the air. In the secluded spot they'd found, there was little threat from humans, and the sun shone through the trees, warming their exposed bellies. When the evening chill set in and sunbathing was not so much of a pleasure, Rita got to her feet and invited Storm to chase her. For over an hour they raced around the park, taking wild leaps over benches and near tripping up anyone who crossed their erratic paths. The time seemed to fly, and Rita was surprised to see the sky darkening. Again she'd missed meeting up with Scout, but it was hard to worry about that when her spirits had been lifted. As Dodger and the others were a higher priority, she'd just have to deal with Scout when everything settled back down a bit. She certainly didn't need him to get her all strung out again after all the effort Storm had made to achieve the opposite. While her concerns for Dodger still lingered, it seemed she was in a better place within herself to deal with it, and for that she was very thankful to Storm.


	10. Split

Several days- over a week in fact, after Rita's missed date with Scout, and she was still going out of her way to avoid bumping into him. As her father had said, she'd had to prioritise, and Rita felt it only right to put her family's needs first, and that included making sure she kept herself from getting overwhelmed. It seemed she'd turned a corner with the stuffy Francis, and the bulldog was now welcoming her advice. Tito was still annoying beyond belief, but Rita couldn't help but liking him all the same, and her friendship with the lovable Einstein remained strong as ever. Now it was just Dodger; the dog she'd always been closest to, the one she loved most of all, who was giving her grief. His blatant snubbing of her attempts to help him through whatever had pained him hurt Rita's feelings more than she cared to let on. Ever since she'd returned from her long weeks out in the cold, she'd been convinced that they really were the closest of friends. Certainly, Dodger had been more openly friendly and affectionate towards her, and genuinely sympathised with all her worries and woes, but still Rita knew next to nothing of his past. Perhaps he just wasn't naturally a sharer? As much as Rita hated it, there was little she could do but to stay close to Dodger and try and be supportive. Worried and hurt, she found her days to be much more of a struggle while her best friend's light couldn't quite manage to shine as strongly as it always used to.

Inevitably, Rita couldn't keep out of Scout's way forever, and on her way to find food for the gang she strayed into his path.

"Rita! Where've ya been?" Scout called, the anger ringing in his voice.

Flinching, Rita turned to face him, ashamed. No excuse would be adequate, no matter how much she felt she'd done what was right. Scout could never see through her eyes, and there was nothing she could do but to brace herself for a fight. It wouldn't be worth lying; the relationship was in a mess already.

"I'm sorry Scout, I… I haven't been feeling so good. Everything's been getting on top of me and I had to focus on getting myself right before I could try and make things better with you," Rita said, avoiding his eye.

"You said you'd make the effort- the least you could have done was tell me what was going on-"

"I couldn't," Rita said firmly. While she couldn't make Scout understand what had happened with Dodger, she was not about to let him treat her like the villain. "Things got really tough and I had to be there for my family. I had to be with Dodger-"

"Dodger?" Scout demanded, "And you wonder why I don't trust you? I've seen the looks you two give each other- do you think I'm an idiot?"

Furious at the accusation, Rita's hackles raised. "Right now I do. He's been my friend since we were little kids, and if you can't get over that you're just a waste of my time. If my friends need me, I'm gonna be there for them, simple as that."

Scout was on the verge of storming off, but just kept glaring at his girlfriend. Having spent the last days worried sick that something had happened to her, he couldn't believe that the whole time she'd simply been more interested in her friends- and right after she'd promised to try harder to make the relationship work. "Well, it comes down to this. I'm not wanting to waste my time either, so if you don't want to seriously commit, we can't keep this up. I love you, Rita, don't you get that? You don't need your human, or Dodger, or your dumb friends, not when we've got each other," the rage had dissipated, and he was now pleading. "Come with me, darling. We'll have a litter in the spring and I'll provide for you all- build _our own _family. There's a world out there that's all ours, you've just got to suck it up and walk away."

Rita was stunned. Hadn't Scout listened to a word she'd said last time they'd met? "I don't believe you!" she exclaimed, "I am not going anywhere, and if you can't get that through your head then I'm ending this right now. You don't trust me, you don't respect anything that's important to me- why the hell would I run away to make puppies for you? Looks like you're gonna have to find a mate somewhere else, sunshine."

The words hit Scout like a slap in the face. For a moment he couldn't speak, tears forming in his eyes. "All I want is something better for you, for both of us. Please, please don't throw it all away. I want to be with you, Rita, please!"

"I can't, Scout, I just can't." Rita shook her head. It had been clear since their last meeting that their relationship would be lucky to survive, but that it had gone so sour before she even had a chance to get her head round it hurt. Never had Rita wanted to put Scout through this- he was clearly desperate for her to love him as he did her- but it had become such a mess and fury had gotten the better of her. "This is it now. Finished." She spoke with a finality that left Scout with no doubt that she meant every word.

Scout threw his head down and whined, before looking Rita in the face once more. "So this is goodbye then."

Rita nodded, "Goodbye."

She walked away, resenting the tears that stung her eyes. Rita knew very well that she didn't need the pressure Scout had been putting on her, not on top of everything else, and his lack of trust in her would be just too hard to overcome, but still she grieved the relationship lost. For all his faults, Scout had treated her as someone special, someone worthy of love, and to walk away from that feeling was tough no matter what the costs had been.

* * *

Dodger still refused to give an outward impression of moping, even as thoughts of his mother swirled around his mind almost constantly. He was maybe a little subdued, maybe a little less switched on to the others, but it wouldn't be anything very noticeable. Only when he was alone could he really wallow in the misery he felt. Rita still obviously wasn't convinced, and if anything, it would be her concern for him that would be picked up on by someone. Thankfully, so far Rita's worrying had only meant that everyone was convinced that something was wrong with _her, _and Dodger was happy to have attention subsequently deflected from him. No one was going to notice if he was a little down when Rita was the one acting strangely. She didn't ask about his wellbeing outright, not after being ignored again and again, but frequently he'd catch her gazing worriedly at him, and she stayed closer to his side than usual. Dodger wished she'd just back off and leave him be. There had to be some ulterior motive for her wanting to help.

He found it ironic in a way that Rita was so keen to take care of him now, for she had committed a similar betrayal to his mother. That terrible morning when Dodger had awoken to find that Rita had gone- no prior warning, she'd simply left, had hurt him even deeper than when his mother had done the same. The old wound that had been left from his first loss was reopened, and the damage just exacerbated. He, Einstein and Fagin had of course searched for their friend, but it became clear that she simply didn't want to be found. The young Dodger had stewed in his anger, thinking of Rita with only venom and cursing himself for trusting some stupid, spoiled uptown girl. If he and his friends weren't enough for Rita, then to hell with her. It was easier that way; far less painful than to think that a friend who had meant so much to him might be dying out there. It was much harder to be upset that she'd likely be dead when he convinced himself that he hated her anyway. He tried to ignore Einstein's grieving for their spindly little friend. And then she came back. Hanging on to life by a thread as hunger and cold took their terrible toll, Rita was desperate for help when they found her. Dodger's hatred was forgotten as he lay with her, hoping that the warmth of his little body would do something to help bring her back from the brink. It was as if her leaving had been all but cancelled out by her coming back, and though forgiveness would take time, Dodger refused to let Rita down while she needed him. He helped her build her confidence back up, he sat with her sympathetically as she sobbed, apologetic for everything she'd put him through, and they came out the other side with a stronger bond than ever. Still, Dodger couldn't forget, and was that bit more mistrustful for the ordeal.

Dodger lay in Fagin's chair after a very short working day. His usual tendency of staying out to enjoy himself had lost its appeal; he was in no mood for fun of any description. The sound of footsteps on the stairs caught his attention, but he responded with just the slightest twitch of an ear. He could tell that it was Rita without looking. She wouldn't be surprised or made suspicious by his lack of interest, so he didn't feel the need to turn around to acknowledge her. A little while later he got down from his perch to see what Rita had brought home- he could smell food.

"Bring anything in today?" Rita asked, glancing behind Dodger. A brown paper bag from a fast food restaurant lay between her forepaws.

With a jolt, Dodger remembered that it was his turn to bring back something for everyone to eat. He swore angrily, the last thing he needed was for the others to realise that he wasn't on form. He'd brought back a couple of useless bits and bobs that he'd pulled from the trash, but nothing edible.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," she grumbled.

Dodger glared at her for reasons unknown to him- it was hardly her fault that dinner had slipped his mind, but it was easier for him to take it out on someone else.

Rita picked up the bag and dropped it at his feet. "Here. No one's going to know that you're not the mastermind behind it, you can save face. I know how much your reputation means to you."

His expression softening despite the bitterness in Rita's tone, Dodger sniffed at the bag. There had to be a couple of burgers- and fries as well, in there. He looked back to Rita, silently thanking her with an appreciative glance. She looked about as gloomy as he'd been feeling. "Rough day, babe?"

"Not great," she paused, "Broke up with Scout, so I've just been sulking really." She had to stop herself from adding a barbed "but I still managed to do my job", thinking better of it. Dodger's stubbornness was getting to her now, but if she wanted any hope of being allowed to help him she couldn't pick a fight.

"Been dumped, huh? See, that's why you shouldn't go putting all your eggs in one basket."

"I wasn't dumped, I finished it. He wanted more than I did, and honestly I just got sick of him getting all jealous 'cause I'm with you a lot of the time." Rita hadn't really expected Dodger to understand what she was feeling, it wasn't as if he'd ever wanted a meaningful romantic relationship himself.

Dodger scoffed. "Jealous? What was the idiot jealous for? It's not as if you've ever wanted me to-"

"You know, Dodger, some people want more than that. Not that you'd understand," Rita snapped.

"But you said it yourself, he wanted more than what you had to offer. Do you even know what you really want?"

For a moment, Rita was unable to retort. Dodger had a fair point. "I don't know- maybe somewhere between your utterly shallow flings and his wanting me to run off to be his mate and give him loads of puppies. Is it too much for me to want someone to make me feel special? To accept me for who and what I am? Scout managed to tick the first box, but then it all kinda fell apart."

Dodger was a little hurt. "What, and I don't make ya feel special?"

"If you flirt with me more than anyone else, it's only because I'm conveniently living in the same place as you," she said.

"How many girls have I ever brought home? Look around the place and count 'em if it makes ya feel better. Since when have I ever been interested in making friends with girls unless there was something in it for me?"

"And we all know what you mean by 'something'." Rita smirked, but the smile faded almost as quickly as it had come. If she was so important to Dodger, then why did he feel like he had to shut her out all the time? "But if I'm so special to you, I would've thought you could talk to me, _really _talk to me."

Dodger knew that the conversation was going into dangerous territory. He had no intention of opening up, whether it would make Rita feel better or not. "Rita, you're my friend, you've got more street smarts than most dogs five times your age who were born out here, and for all that badass exterior you've got a heart of gold. Not exactly hard on the eyes either. I shouldn't have to spell it out for ya, but as it doesn't seem to have sunk in yet- you mean a lot to me. Just don't expect me to tell you everything I'm thinking and feeling, 'cause that's not how I work. Don't take it personal, all right?" he paused for a moment, "If I ever want to talk, you'll be first to know about it. Fair?"

Rita nodded. "That's fair. Thanks." Though she wasn't exactly happy about it, she'd just have to resign herself to the fact that Dodger wouldn't be moved, and that it wasn't a reflection on anything that might be amiss in their friendship. "The guys will probably be back soon- want to go out for a while so we can sulk without being interrupted?"

"You know there's no one I'd rather sulk with. And if you want to talk, 'bout Scout or anythin', I'll always listen even if I don't understand how you're feelin'," Dodger walked slowly toward the door. He still felt low, but was glad that Rita now seemed to accept where he was coming from. If he was going to sit around feeling gloomy, then at least he'd have someone sitting around feeling gloomy with him. That, he supposed, was what friends were for.


	11. A Red Bandanna

Dodger threw himself into providing for the gang, determined to avoid another slip up. Rita had helped him out that one time, but he didn't want anyone taking care of him. Since their little talk after her split with Scout, Rita had been less focussed on Dodger and whatever might be wrong with him. It was a relief, and they were back to co-existing quite comfortably. Dodger could quietly go about trying to work through the pain of his past without intrusion, and took every opportunity to be alone, away from the need to put on a show. Francis, Tito and Einstein were baffled by the change in him, though eventually it was assumed that it was down to adolescent hormones causing him to run off seeking out ladies. That was partly true anyway. Although he made sure to avoid the warehouse where he'd run into his mother, Dodger was back to his womanising ways, cheering himself up with encounters with beautiful girls- he had his fun and then made himself scarce. It was easy, and helped take his mind off everything else. As the weeks passed, each much the same as the next, Dodger began to think that he'd soon have to break out, to escape. The old barge brought memories of his mother back whenever he woke each morning, and whenever he came home each night. It was getting to the point where he could barely stand it. It was just the thought of running away… he'd been furious at Rita's betrayal of trust, and now he was considering doing the very same thing. Not _exactly _the very same thing, he told himself; Rita had disappeared without a word, leaving her supposed family wondering if she was even alive. Dodger couldn't do that. He'd simply tell everyone that he was moving on, it was all part of growing up. Rita was more than capable of taking over leadership of the gang if it came down to it, and though Dodger had no doubt she'd kick up a stink when the plan was put to her, she really had no business trying to stop him after what she herself had done. At the same time, he didn't want to part on bad terms either. Rita was his friend, and he really didn't want to hurt her or seriously damage their bond. If he was going to leave Fagin and the gang, Dodger would need to be careful in how he approached it.

Alone in the city, Dodger enjoyed the freedom he felt- no one out here knew the shame of what his mother had done to him, no one expected him to take care of them. He was a master of this world, in tune with the movement all around him and perfectly hiding the storm that continued to rage inside him. It would be better this way… returning to the gang for only brief visits. They didn't have to stop being friends, but Dodger had to get out of there if he wanted any chance of getting over the pain he was feeling.

Dodger crouched low against the concrete, observing the scene before him. The midday rush was in full swing, and the demand for lunch caused the heaving crowds to congregate around anywhere that might be serving food. As per the norm, hotdogs were a favourite with citygoers, and Old Louie was pumping them out a mile a minute to keep up with the customers. It was the perfect opportunity for Dodger to make a meal himself- in the chaos of lunchtime, it was all too easy to sneak away with some sausages. Licking his lips hungrily, Dodger moved forward. He could almost taste the ketchup. Swiftly, he made his move, taking advantage of the distraction created by an angry customer who'd grown tired of waiting. A small string of sausages came away, which Dodger wrapped around his neck for safe keeping. He bolted behind the next corner to ensure he was out of sight when Louie made the discovery that his wares were missing. Again, Dodger waited until tensions between the vendor and his impatient clientele het up, and then swooped in to snatch the bottle of ketchup. As expected, it was all too easy- but then Dodger was a pro at this by now.

Before Dodger could really tuck in, a growl behind him caught his attention. Unconcerned, he looked up to see a shaggy grey mutt standing stiff-legged and snarling.

"Move along, you want to dine like a king, you gotta learn it yourself," he smirked, "but you don't look the sharpest, best stick to trash, all right buddy?"

The dog growled a low and rumbling growl. "I wasn't asking, punk. Throw 'em over or I'll take them the hard way."

Dodger got to his feet, confident. He wasn't about to lose a meal to a pushy idiot like this guy- the stranger was not too big, and didn't look all that healthy. "If that's how ya want it," he said, still showing no sign of submission.

They clashed, each fighting to get a strong hold on the other. Serious though the intentions of the grey mutt may have been, he remained quiet, as though too unable to make any intimidating noises to impress his rival. Dodger quickly twigged why- the stranger was fearful of humans, and unwilling to bring attention to the presence of a pair of sparring dogs. Had his mouth not been full of the stranger's fur, Dodger would have grinned; he knew exactly how to get one over this dog while making little effort.

Dodger relaxed his grip and howled so his echoing voice surrounded them, bouncing off the concrete. For every slight hit he received from the grey mutt, he'd yelp or scream, all the while finding the situation hilarious- he was of course, totally in control. Unnerved, the stranger backed off a little, only for Dodger to slam into him, hurling him back toward the roads… and the humans. Dodger pushed further, growling as loud as he could manage and noting the panic in his rival's face. His eyes flashing back to the walkway that he was almost upon, the grey mutt could see no option but to turn tail and flee. He just couldn't see how this crazy kid was seemingly not terrified of the looming humans himself. He ducked and ran out, his tail between his legs, leaving Dodger watching from the mouth of the alley, a smug smile plastered on his face.

As Dodger turned back to claim his hotdogs, another canine figure was standing there. He growled a warning, though he figured it largely unnecessary- this newcomer had already seen what he was made of.

The dog, who looked to be part American bulldog, relaxed his body, hoping to appear non-confrontational. "That was pretty impressive," he said, eyeing the younger dog. "I don't know many dogs who'd pull a stunt like that- you know you could get yourself killed getting so close to humans, right?"

Dodger shrugged and smirked. "You don't get killed if ya know what you're doin'," he said. This dog seemed friendly enough… and didn't appear that interested in his hotdogs. "If you're after handouts you're gonna be disappointed, I got my bros to feed. Name's Dodger by the way."

"I've already eaten," said the bulldog. He looked at Dodger with great curiosity. "I'm sure I've heard your name, seems you've got yourself a reputation, kid. They say you consort with a human, which is pretty weird if you ask me… but it looks like you're doin' all right for yourself."

Though he was used to taunts about his friendship with Fagin, Dodger didn't feel this bulldog had intentions of mocking, he just seemed intrigued. He nodded. "If you're smart enough to handle 'em, humans are no trouble. Biggest resource in the city, you'd be dumb not to take advantage."

"You've never thought of leaving and joining a real pack then? If you're interested, I've got a little band together- we lost a few recently, disappeared, we could use someone like you. You've clearly got some nerve, you'd do us proud."

It was as if this bulldog had known that Dodger had been considering leaving Fagin. The thought was tempting… it was after all, the familiarity of the barge that he wanted to get away from, he didn't necessarily want to be alone. Dodger was always at his happiest when he had friends to show off for. But did he really need to get involved with other dogs? How could he really trust anyone new after what his mother had done? Of course, he didn't have to get close to this new pack, they'd just be companions with little emotional attachment. The prospect seemed a good one, but then Dodger realised that his taking up with a bunch of strangers was likely to lead to some hurt feelings back home. Even if he couldn't live with them, he wanted to stay friends with the gang.

"Like I said, I got my own gang to take care of," Dodger said, "but I'll think about it, could be time for a change."

The bulldog looked a little disappointed. "Well, if you want to take me up on it, I'll be round these parts. Dogs round here know me, just ask for Mac."

Dodger nodded. "Thanks for the offer anyhow, maybe I'll see ya round sometime." He gathered up his sausages, ready to head back to Fagin.

"Maybe," said Mac, "A dog like you is wasted with a human, just think about it."

* * *

Having fed everyone back at the barge, Dodger went back out, unwilling to be cooped up and trapped with thoughts of his mother. It had taken a while to get away from the others; Tito had been raring to go along with him, having missed his usual playmate and fellow mischief-maker. Surrounded by his friends, Dodger had felt guilty as he continued to seriously consider leaving them for good.

Trying to assuage his guilt, Dodger headed to the area where it was likely he'd find Fagin- the place where the man had left his dogs earlier that day. He could put in that bit more work for him while he, Dodger, was still around. Away from the barge, at least he didn't have thoughts of his mother swirling around his head.

As he came near to where Fagin had left his scooter, Dodger heard the sounds of a scuffle, but not dogs- humans. Something, though he was not sure what it was, put him on edge. Something wasn't right. Suddenly fearful for Fagin, Dodger rushed around the next corner. There was a loud bang as a metal trashcan was knocked to one side, rubbish flying everywhere. Two young humans, surely adolescents, they couldn't be fully grown, were laying into a quivering figure on the ground. It was Fagin, and he was in big trouble. Dodger charged over, his every hair on end and a deep growl vibrating in his throat. He barked fiercely, squaring up to the teenage brutes. The boys looked around, pausing their assault on the defenceless man. One of them laughed, but the other looked nervous. Dodger had no fear of them. These scumbags were simply testing out their bravado on someone weak, unable to put up much of a fight; they'd be sure to scarper if it looked like they'd be hurt, there'd be nothing to gain if they didn't.

Dodger came closer, stiff-legged and threatening. The braver of the two teenagers kicked out, knocking the mutt to the side.

"No- stop!" Fagin cried.

His snarls intensifying, Dodger leapt forward, getting hold of a red bandana that the youth had around his neck. Obviously frightened, the other boy scrambled to untie it so that the furious dog would fall away. Not easily discouraged, Dodger moved in again, biting the first teenager hard between the legs, causing him to give a great yell.

"Please, don't- don't hurt him," Fagin called out as he finally pulled himself back to his feet. He was terrified for his beloved dog and didn't want him beaten for his sake.

As Dodger had expected, the more nervous of the two boys was quick to flee and, deserted, the other soon followed. Dodger barked defiantly as he watched them get away, and then turned back to his poor friend.

Fagin flung his arms around the mutt, who was a little bruised, but had come away with no serious injuries. He sobbed noisily. "What would I do without you, Dodger?" he sniffed, "Come on, boy, we'd better get out of here in case they come back."

Dodger whined and licked his master's face. Fagin had a black eye and a few cuts and scrapes, but it could have been a lot worse. It dawned on the young mutt why so many street dogs couldn't understand his friendship with a human- there was no doubt about it, they could be vicious and cruel, with not a care for those they make suffer. Fagin wasn't like that though… he had no one else, just five dogs. It was hard not to think of him as being more dog than human. They shared so much, Dodger and Fagin; both abandoned by supposed family and, Dodger was certain, carrying the scars. It was as if they were brothers.

Struggling back to his feet, and feeling rather sore, Fagin went to pick up the red bandanna that had fallen to the floor and turned back to the pup with a little smile. "Here you go, Dodger, I think this is yours now."

Dodger sat still as his friend tied the bandanna around his neck. It wasn't like wearing a collar, a mark of ownership, but a gift to signify their bond, their partnership. It was them against the world, rejected by cruel society and families. Dodger grinned up at Fagin, proud.

Soon they were back on the scooter, careening towards home. Dodger couldn't help but feel a little shaken. _What would I do without you, Dodger? _Fagin had said. And there he was, thinking of leaving, of running out on him. Dodger realised that it just wasn't an option; there was no explaining to poor Fagin what it was that was going on, no telling him why. They were in this together until the end.

* * *

"Woah, man! What happened?" Tito exclaimed as Fagin limped down the stairs with Dodger at his feet.

Dodger lifted his head, showing an air of almost disinterest. "It was nothin' just a couple of human creeps throwin' their weight around. I put them back in their place."

Tito's eyes were wide with pure excitement. Why was it, though, that he missed all the action?

Whimpering their concerns, Rita, Einstein and Francis gathered anxiously around Fagin as he collapsed into his chair, groaning.

"Good dogs, good dogs," Fagin muttered, dodging the licking tongues that were coming at him from all directions. Truth be told, he didn't mind being slobbered on. The dogs were all the family, all the friends he had left, and that they cared for him meant more than he could say.

As Tito ran over to join the others with Fagin, Dodger walked slowly over to his own bed. It seemed he wasn't going anywhere. He felt as though the bond he shared with his human had suddenly gotten a lot closer, and to feel such love gave him a wonderful warm feeling inside. But still, this place… all the memories that haunted the creaking, dirty boat. Now he couldn't escape, he was trapped. Dodger would have to somehow come to terms with what had happened and just move through it- but how could he?

Rita quietly padded over, now satisfied that Fagin would be all right. "Hiya, Dodgie-baby, you're not hurt are you?" she asked, a look of concern on her face.

Dodger looked up and gave her a small half-hearted smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. It would take more than that."

"What's with the new accessory?"

"Oh, that," said Dodger, "Just a little souvenir, Fagin wanted me to wear it." He didn't want Rita to think of him as some common pet wearing a collar, but for whatever reason this bandanna held meaning to him. Perhaps because it linked him to his family- the ones who hadn't left him.

"It suits you, Dodge," Rita said with a grin, and she walked over to her own bed, ready to rest for the evening.

Dodger couldn't help but agree. He was trapped, and it scared him, but he at least had something worthwhile to show for it.


	12. A Scent of Fear

The next day, Dodger was feeling a good few bruises. It seemed the kick he'd received had done a little more damage than he'd first thought. Shifting in his bed to try and get comfortable, his mind was once again on his mother. He knew he couldn't keep it up, he'd have to train himself to stop associating the barge with that sick woman- especially as now he was dedicated to sticking around. In a fitful night of sleep, Dodger had reached the conclusion that it would be best for everyone if he stepped down from his role of leader while he was still fixing up his head. Admittedly it would dent his pride to give up a position of influence- if there was one thing he loved, it was the admiration he received from the rest of the gang, but in all honesty, they'd been not much of a gang in recent weeks. With Dodger missing in action more often than not, and Rita frequently taking time out with her father, it was now rare for more than three of them to be together in one place once they left the barge. Dodger had been sure they were onto something good, and if he _was _sticking around, he was going to make his gang work, even if it meant he needed help in the short term. His mind made up, all that was left was to put the plan to Rita, his proposed new leader.

The heroic rescue of Fagin was still the hot topic of discussion, and Tito was quickly bouncing around Dodger's bed, raring to hear another account of the altercation, while Francis shouted at him to keep the noise down, before quizzing Dodger himself. Einstein was sticking close to Fagin, tending to his cuts and bruises in a slobbery fashion. As per the norm, Rita was last to wake, but eventually joined the others. Discreetly, she checked Dodger over for any worrisome injuries.

It was only when Fagin pulled himself up and headed toward the door that Dodger saw a chance to talk to Rita about his plan- the others had been quick to run outside, while Rita was still concerned enough about her potentially wounded friend that she hung back. Dodger hated to admit to weakness- and an admission that he wasn't up to leading the gang would be tough to get out, but there seemed to be no other way around this. At least, he thought, Rita was already well aware that something was wrong anyway. That he was struggling would not be news to her.

"So I've been thinkin'," Dodger said, catching Rita's eye before she turned to follow the others, "things haven't really been workin' that well recently. It's all sorta fallin' apart. Being leader of the gang… I'm not sure I should be doin' it right now."

Rita was surprised, but didn't show it. "You're right, it has been hard. It's almost like we've got some rain cloud hanging over us that won't shift- it's been so much harder to be happy these days." She sighed, gazing wistfully at her old friend. Would she ever get him back- the way he used to be, the way he was _meant _to be? Rita had to put her faith in him, the one person she most believed in. "But we look to you, we- _I_ trust you to get us through whatever this is."

The words gave Dodger a pleasantly warm feeling, but nonetheless didn't solve his problem. "I want you to take over. Maybe not forever, just 'til I get my head straight. You've always been the sensible one anyhow, it'd be better that way."

Rita shook her head. It hadn't surprised her that this was where the conversation was going, but she didn't like it one bit. She just didn't feel she could just take over leadership of the gang; she wasn't Dodger and never would be. He fit the role and had the full confidence of his friends. But there was more than that stopping her. "I'm sorry, Dodge, I can't," she said, watching as the fleeting hope slipped from his face. "_You're _the leader, and you're the leader for a reason."

"Come on, Rit," Dodger said, "you know you're more than capable…"

Rita cut across him. "I had someone look to me to take care of them once, and it didn't end well. I'm not stupid enough to think it was completely my fault, but it comes down to the same- I failed and she's dead. I can't, Dodge."

_Of course, _thought Dodger, _Willow_. He hadn't imagined that it would still be playing on Rita's mind after all that time. It seemed family left scars even when long gone- that much he could certainly understand. "All right. I get it," he said. It was a disappointment, but not worth pushing the matter.

Relieved though she was that Dodger was quick to drop the idea, Rita was touched that he had the faith in her to make such a proposition. "Anything I can do to help though- apart from lookin' after the guys, you know I'm always on your side."

"Maybe I should take you on as my personal advisor? Make use of that good head you got on your shoulders without layin' the responsibility on ya? You're pretty much second in charge round here anyhow," Dodger suggested.

Rita smiled warmly, her tail wagging appreciatively. "'Course. Whatever you need. But, honey, things will get better. I promise you."

She was sincere, and Dodger knew it, but just because she believed something didn't make it true. He tried to return the smile, and was relieved when a loud honk from the scooter outside acted as a distraction.

"Come on, you two! Let's get going!" Fagin shouted from up on the docks.

* * *

Stuck in his position of leadership, Dodger still didn't feel up to being surrounded by his comrades. It turned out, though, that he didn't have to. Young Tito was bouncing off the pavement within seconds of leaping from the scooter- he was looking for fun and wasn't going to wait around for the recently less-than-playful Dodger. He ran off, with Einstein racing after him, his enormous tail whipping the air in joy as he went. It was with a little sadness that Dodger watched them disappear into the traffic. He used to have fun like that- running wildly into the city with an expectation of adventure and the carefree spirit to love every minute. Would that be gone from him forever? He'd not really played since the run in with his mother… he'd join in half-heartedly every now and then, but it was just going through the motions, not really letting himself go. It was as though he'd fallen into a sort of daze, stretching on for weeks and weeks. He kept waiting to snap out of it, but it still hadn't happened.

"Dodge!" Rita barked, "Are you okay, sweetie? You look like you're miles away."

Dodger shook himself. "Yeah, sure. Musta drifted off a second," he said.

"Where to today, Dodger?" said Francis, his chest puffed out as though expecting important instructions that he would, of course, leap to. "I fear you a long overdue one of my performances; perhaps we might remedy that."

Dodger grinned. It was obvious that the bulldog shared his passion for showing off. "You got a point. I've gotta make sure you're puttin' out your best work, can't have you slacking on my watch."

Francis' corkscrew tail wiggled happily.

"If you don't mind," said Rita, "I might skip theatre school for the day. I'm still theatred out from all that Shakespeare stuff I sat through." She'd kept her word several weeks back and, along with the incredibly excited Francis, managed to sneak in to observe Shakespeare in the Park. Francis had been delighted, but Rita had decided that it wasn't really her cup of tea. She preferred a bit of daytime television- which at least didn't require getting translations for each line from her increasingly irritated cultured friend. Rita suspected that Francis might have been rather less patient with her had he not kept reminding himself that it was she who was responsible for his experiencing it in the first place.

"Off to find Pops again?" Dodger asked. It seemed that Storm was fast becoming Rita's companion of choice. He felt a slight prickle of jealousy every time she ran off, but reminded himself that he'd not exactly been filling his role of best friend, playmate and partner in crime in the way he used to. When he was with Rita these days, he usually just quietly enjoyed her company. In some ways they were closer than before, but the fun they'd once had seemed to be a thing of the past.

Rita shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe. I'm bringing home some serious loot today," she said with a wink. "If I've still got time afterwards I might try and track him down." She glanced over Dodger, seeing a flash of what looked like longing behind his eyes. "You want to hang out with us later? We might go over Coney Island way- best hotdogs around. Bet ya can't say no to that?"

Francis sniffed. Coney Island was not his cup of tea. Dodger, however, looked tempted.

"I might take you up on that," the mutt said, turning to make a move. "See ya round, babe."

Rita flashed him a grin, and smoothly vaulted herself onto the nearest car. Before long, she'd raced out of sight.

For a moment, Dodger stared off into the distance, his eyes resting on the last place he'd seen the hound. He felt a strong urge to run after her. He _wanted _to be the way he used to; making a spectacle of himself for her benefit, fooling around at the expense of hapless strangers, feeling a part of the city he loved- no worries and no cares. Rita was just the same as she'd always been; older, more mature, though she was- a little tougher and a little more dignified, she was still the same Rita he'd grown to love when they were pups. And what was he? He didn't feel like Dodger anymore. The old Dodger was still there, he was sure of it, but where?

A loud rumbling caused Dodger to grin and turn around. "Hungry, Francis?"

"It sounds that way," the bulldog chuckled.

"We might put theatre school on hold- I'll find ya somethin' out a trashcan to keep ya goin' in the meantime."

With no need to go far, Dodger knocked over a can right beside the skid marks on the ground from where Fagin had screeched his scooter to a halt. "_Bon appetit_!"

They tucked in, digging excitedly through the assorted rubbish. It was something that Francis had become well accustomed to, and no longer even thought to complain. Food was food.

"It seems I forgot to mention it," said Francis, looking up from his snuffling through the trash, "but it was really something yesterday, protecting Fagin the way you did. How fortunate he is to have you."

Dodger couldn't help but grin. He had a right to feel proud after standing up for someone of importance to him. "Woulda done it for any of you, and I'm sure you'd have all done the same."

Francis was still looking at the young mutt with admiration. Had such attention been directed at less of a show-off, the expression might almost be taken as sickening, but Dodger lapped it up. "You really are a fine young dog Dodger, remarkable for one with such humble roots. I must apologise for ever doubting you as a leader," Francis said, bowing his head dramatically.

"No probs," Dodger said, "I guess I should apologise for givin' you a hard time when you were startin' out, shouldn't I? I'll admit it though; it was a load of fun."

Francis chuckled and walked on to the next narrow street. Barely had Dodger a chance to register his friend's movement when a strange scent hit him… a scent that made his blood run cold. He couldn't pinpoint what it was, but the scent carried fear… dogs in terror. And then there was a great howl ringing in the air.

Without a second's hesitation, Dodger flung himself toward the direction of that terrible sound. He had to get to Francis. There was a human pinning the bulldog, gasping for breath, against the wall with looped wire stick. In the seconds before Dodger could look at him before he bit into the leg of the attacker, he noticed that the human didn't look like a dogcatcher, not the ones he was used to. The human looked rough, stinking of alcohol and wearing a stained shirt that looked nothing like a dogcatcher's uniform. Whoever this was, Dodger wasn't about to let him take Francis.

"Dodger…" Francis gasped, his eye rolling back, searching. "Behind…"

Even before the words got out, a swooping sound behind Dodger caused him to look up, but it was too late. The wire noose was already around his head and tightening, holding him fast. Dodger hollered his defiance, snarls ringing in his throat, his legs flailing, clawing at the air, but he was lifted up off his paws. He'd been too quick to charge in, not even looking to take in the situation. His panic to get to Francis had gotten the better of him. His heart pounding, Dodger watched as Francis was dragged, seemingly frozen in fear, toward a dark, windowless van and hastily bundled inside.

"Francis! _Francis_!" Dodger cried. If only he'd thought, he might just have been able to get Francis to safety, but he'd messed it all up horribly. If anything happened to Francis now…

Choking as he was lifted by his neck, Dodger found himself hoisted into the back of the same van. Immediately he knew that this was where the dangerous scent had come from; all around there was fear, pressing in on him, leaving his every instinct and impulse screaming for him to get out. The human shoved him roughly into a wire cage next to Francis, slamming the door before he could slip out. And then the van's door was shut and all was dark.

Even over the rumbling of the engine, Dodger could hear Francis' frantic panting. He pressed himself against the wire of the cage, feeling the body heat of his friend, who moved closer so that their sides brushed one another.

"What's happening?" Francis finally managed to say, his voice high and panicked. "Dodger, where are they taking us?"

Regaining control and composure, Dodger spoke steadily, hoping to calm the distressed bulldog in spite of his own fear. "I don't know," he said. "But I'll get us out. You'll be back with Fagin before you know it, I promise you that."

As memories of now haunting warnings of strange disappearances of dogs off the streets swirling around his mind, Dodger couldn't help but anticipate the worst. Wherever they were going, it couldn't be anywhere good.


	13. In the Basement

Dragged down through a filthy house to a dark basement, Dodger barked and snarled in defiance. Ahead of him, he could see Francis trembling, clearly terrified. Dodger himself was scared, but he refused to show any weakness to these brutes. More than anything, he just wanted to get Francis out of this- as the leader he never should have let the newcomer wander into danger in the first place. Dodger blinked to adjust to the darkness and tried to take in his surroundings; the basement had several small cages stacked up against a wall, most of which containing a single dog. The noise and the smells from the frightened dogs was near overwhelming. Before he could take it in, he found himself looking on, helpless, as Francis was shoved into another cage. Dodger gave the deepest, most dangerous growl he could muster, but it made no difference. In a blur, he found himself thrown into a wire cage, perched above another and tucked against a cold grey wall.

"Dodger? Dodger, are you there?" a voice came faintly through the din of dogs howling.

Before he could answer, the door was slammed closed and Dodger and the others were plunged into darkness. He felt a cold feeling as he couldn't stop himself from wondering when he'd next see sunlight. Pulling himself together, he called out to Francis. "I'm here. I'll get us outta here, don't you worry about it." He heard an anxious whine come from Francis' direction. "Try and get some sleep, relax if you can. I'll sort it."

"It's you? Dodger?" came another voice, this one from the cage directly below Dodger.

Dodger's fur prickled in recognition. "Scout! What're you doin' banged up in here?"

"Same thing as you, couldn't get away quick enough, I guess," said Scout. "Do you really think you can get us out of here, or is that just your inflated head talking?"

Dodger growled. He'd never been too keen on Scout, and to hear his voice now made him think with a pang of Rita- she'd have been hoping to see him over on Coney Island. Would she be waiting, upset, for him or would she just put it down to more of his weird behaviour? Whether he liked Scout or not, Dodger wouldn't have wanted him in this situation. If he was mounting an escape, he couldn't in good conscience leave him there, not if he could help it. "I'll do it. If it kills me, I'll do it."

Scout was quiet for a moment, apparently preventing himself from trying to pick a fight with Dodger. "Is Rita safe?" he finally asked.

"She wasn't with us when we got caught," Dodger replied, "she's fine." He wondered how long it would take for her to miss them, for Tito and Einstein to miss them. It wasn't unusual for Dodger to stay out overnight, but Francis… surely they'd be worried when he didn't come home. Dodger gave a soft whine. How could it have only been a day since he'd seriously considered walking out on them? Now, he'd give anything to be back at the barge, playfully bashing Tito round the place, flirting with Rita… just being home.

Scout gave a heavy sigh. "I'm scared, I'm scared, Dodger," he whimpered. "These people are insane. They don't think nothing about sitting back and watching as a dog is torn apart. They're evil. They're gonna kill us all."

"Who are these people?" Dodger growled, feeling a chill go up his spine. What were they going to do to him- and to Francis?

A voice from Dodger's side replied, a tiredness seemingly dragging it down. "They fight us. Not us exactly, they fight fighting dogs. Our job is to act as bait, punch bags for them to practice on," he said. "They'll use you until you drop. You've never experienced anything like it… you'll find this basement doesn't seem so bad once you see the other option."

Scout started whimpering in fear, setting off several dogs around them.

"Cool it, Scout, that's not helpin'," Dodger said, trying to cover up his own terror. He could fight, but against a trained killer? He didn't rate his chances, and poor Francis would have no hope at all.

The dog to the side spoke again. "Dodger, is it? I'm sorry, you've got a friend in here. If you can, try and detach. It breaks you down seeing dogs going to their deaths, I can't imagine what it will do to you if it's a pal."

Dodger felt as though he was going to be sick. The image of Francis, sprawled in the dirt, a monstrous dog tearing at his quivering form swirled in his mind. How had he let him get into so much danger?

"I'm getting him out," Dodger said, though his voice lacked his usual confidence.

"You're not," said the dog. "You're in a cage in a basement. They open the doors only to feed us, and they are not lettin' you go anywhere. I'm sorry, but this is it."

In the dark, caged in and surrounded by the stench and sound of panicky dogs, Dodger tried to get his head around the situation. Some vaguely remembered words of warning floated through his mind, '_dogs in their prime just vanishing without a _trace… _make sure you keep your wits about _you. Storm had been right on this one, and now both Dodger and Francis had stumbled into a waking nightmare. Dodger's eyes flickered around the room; there was just the one door up the stairs and a small window as potential escape routes. The cages were cheap and seemed flimsy, he didn't imagine it would be too hard to break into them from the outside, if only he could get out of his own first. If the cages were opened for food to be given, Dodger would just have to take the opportunity and make an escape. He could do it, he was sure he could do it. There was no other option, he simply _had _to get out.

"Get some sleep," said the dog, "There's nothing much else to do, keeping your strength up is the best you can hope for right now."

Dodger lay down. How he'd manage to go to sleep when he was somewhere so alien, so full of fear, he had no idea, but the dog was right, but there was little else to do. He closed his eyes, imagining he was home in bed, his family all around him. How could he miss them so much already?

* * *

At the barge that night, the absence of two members of the family had not gone unnoticed. No one was particularly alarmed by Dodger's not coming home, but it was completely out of character for Francis.

"It's not fair!" Tito was complaining, "Why is Dodger taking Frankie out to have some fun, but not me?"

Einstein, cheerful as usual, wagged his tail. "It's nice that Frankie settling in and being happy, he's one of us now."

The idea that Francis had joined Dodger in his late night antics was laughable to Rita, but she said nothing. There was no point in getting anyone else worried, not yet. She was certain that something wasn't right; Francis was almost always the first home each afternoon, and it was now late at night, everyone ready for bed. He was still new to a life on the streets, and relatively naïve. It wouldn't take much for him to get himself into trouble, and they had all been warned that something bad had been happening to street dogs in recent weeks. Rita felt a chill as her father's words came back to her. She should have done more… she _knew _that he was still learning and therefore vulnerable. Why hadn't she stayed closer to him? They were friends now, it wouldn't have been a hardship. She'd just put a higher priority on spending time with her father- putting her own needs before her family's. Dodger had been wrong about her; she wasn't remotely cut out to be a leader. _Dodger, where are you? _If Francis was in trouble, the mutt wouldn't have left him… was Dodger in trouble as well? He knew his stuff, Rita knew that, but he'd not been quite right for ages… what if he'd been taken at a moment of weakness? He'd been acting strangely, offering her his role of leader. Could he have been considering simply walking away from them? Was _that _what had happened, and Francis' disappearance was something unrelated? Eventually, tiredness took over, and Rita couldn't stay awake fretting any longer. She drifted off into a troubled sleep.

It was early when Rita woke the next morning, the sky still dark. Hopefully, she looked over to Dodger's bed, but it was empty and clearly hadn't been slept in. She glanced around, and her heart sank as she saw that Francis hadn't come home either. Poor Francis had spent a whole night out in the city, surely he'd be frightened? All Rita could do was hope that Dodger was with him, keeping them both safe. She felt sick, her stomach feeling like it was doing flips. How much longer could they leave it before they started to search? Certain that something was wrong, Rita made up her mind to get Tito and Einstein searching with her that day. Dodger might be fine, but Francis wouldn't survive out there on his own for long. Rita got to her feet and headed upstairs, sitting on the deck as the cool morning breeze played with her fur. Wistfully, she looked out to the city, which was slowly coming alive as the rising sun added colour to its streets. _Dodger_, she thought, _Dodge, come home. Please, come home._

* * *

Dodger was also awake early, though it was difficult to keep track of day or night in such a dark room. Every now and then he'd hear whimpering and crying from the dogs around him, but mainly there was just quiet. He'd never been confined like this and he hated the feeling. There was no room to move, no room to do anything. He fidgeted, trying again and again to get comfortable, but he simply couldn't.

"You'll get used to it," came the voice from his side. The dog spoke with a sigh, obviously a longer term survivor of this dreadful place. "I didn't introduce myself earlier," he said, "They call me Scrap."

"Pleased to meet ya, Scrap," said Dodger, "pity 'bout the circumstances. You been banged up here long?"

Scrap groaned. "Too long," he said, "I've been beaten more times than most, but they never seem to quite finish me off. I lost an eye a month or so back, that was probably the worst time."

Dodger swore under his breath. What sort of a chance would Francis have against a brute who'd tear another dog's eye out?

"The worst is Brutus, he's their most prized fighter," said Scrap, before adding quietly, "and my father. I was something of a disappointment so the humans make use of me this way. Human word is law to dogs like Brutus, they put no value on canine life. It's sick, you can hardly call them dogs at all."

Dodger growled; suddenly his mother looked like a saint. He couldn't fathom how a dog could become so twisted, this Brutus must be seriously unhinged. "We've got to get out of here," he said.

"You can try," said Scrap, relenting. "I'll believe it can be done when I see it, but if I can help, I will. I've seen too many dogs taken to fight, never to return. My brother was one of them. I don't think it was Brutus who killed him, but the others are almost as bad."

"How many are there?" asked Dodger, disgusted.

"I'm not sure exactly. Four, I think, but things may have changed since I was last used. My mother was a fighter too, but she was killed. One of them is my brother, one is my sister, and the other bitch the human bought to breed from. She's a monster as well, you should see the jaw on her. They live out in the yard, away from us bait dogs. The humans will tie us up out there to get the fighters ramped up and wanting blood, and then a few days later one or more of them will be allowed a crack at us." Scrap growled. "If I wasn't so useless I'd love to be able to hit back, hurt them like they hurt us. But I probably won't last another round with one of those psychos, I'm spent."

Dodger felt a great wave of sympathy for poor Scrap. The young dog known nothing but this miserable basement except for brief outings to be brutally savaged by his own family. Dodger wanted to get him out, maybe even to take him home. Scrap had to be made of stern stuff if he was still going after all he'd been put through, perhaps he'd make a useful addition to the gang. As soon as the thought had come to Dodger, he felt a horrible longing, wishing he was with his family now.

Scrap continued. "It's not their fault anyway, they were normal dogs like you and me once. It's what humans can do, making evil beasts outta innocent dogs. It's those humans I'd most like to take a piece outta."

Just then, one of 'those humans' burst through the door and put on the light. Immediately Dodger tried to catch a glimpse of where Francis was, but the position of his cage prevented this. He then glanced to his side to where Scrap was lying. With a jolt, he realised the extent of the bait dog's scars; not only did Scrap have an eye missing, but with his mouth open it was clear that a large piece had been bitten away from his tongue. The effect was almost grotesque, and the sight filled Dodger with a seething anger for the humans who'd done this. He snarled in fury as the man passed his cage.

"_Shut it!_" roared the man, and he slammed his fist against Dodger's cage, leaving it quivering. If any of the dogs had been asleep, they certainly weren't now. The human continued talking, more to himself than anything else, though he would periodically hurl abuse at the dogs when the mood took him.

Dodger watched, his lip curled in a silent snarl. This wasn't a human like Fagin, it was something else, a monster. He could only keep an eye on the human when he was directly in front of his or Scrap's cages, but still managed to work out that he was preparing to feed the dogs. _This could be my best chance to get out_, he thought. He readied himself, preparing his muscles for a leap forward when the door was opened.

Finally, the door opened, and Dodger flung himself forward. A heavy blow hit his head, the hard metal bowl coming down on it hard, and the meagre kibble offering flew everywhere.

"Get back in there, fleabag!" the man shouted, smashing the door against Dodger's head for good measure.

Thrown back into his cage, Dodger barked ferociously in protest, but before he could make a second attempt, he was shut in once more. Overwhelmed with frustration and fear, he slammed himself recklessly in front of the cage while the human laughed cruelly.

"Stop it, Dodger!" Scout called, having been woken. "Don't hurt yourself, it'll get you killed later."

"Are you all right, Dodger?" Francis asked, his lofty voice coming through the frantic barking.

Panting, Dodger tried to get a hold of himself. "I'm… I'm fine, Francis. Just hang in there, you're gonna be fine." He didn't believe it, and knowing what he did now, he was more scared than ever. This place was nothing like he could have even imagined- that dogs could wind up so sick in the head just to make money for their humans turned Dodger's stomach. Shaking with rage and terror, he couldn't even bring himself to look at the pieces of kibble now scattered around his cage.

Scrap whined. "I'm sorry, I really am. Just don't let them break you," he said, "once they break you there's no hope."


	14. Break for Freedom

Having missed his chance of escape, Dodger spent the next hours lying in his cramped cage; occasionally he'd engage in conversation with the dogs around him… Scrap, Francis, Scout, but for the most part he just lay there with his thoughts. The day had been punctuated by the removal of one of the dogs, a young bull terrier bitch, from the basement. Immediately, the small, dark room had erupted into deafening barking as inmates barked and hollered out their fury and fear for the poor bitch. None of the dogs were naïve enough to assume that she'd survive to come back. The dog in the cage next to the unfortunate bitch, protested the loudest, screaming and crying long after the door had once again been closed. The distressed dog, Scrap had told Dodger, was the bull terrier's mate, and the two had been captured together. The screams sent an unwelcome shiver down Dodger's spine. How would he cope in that situation- knowing that someone he cared about was soon to be brutally killed? He tried not to think of Francis, not to let it get to him… he had to hold himself together if he was going to get them through this.

Finally, the basement was quiet again, save for the prolonged sobbing of the bull terrier's mate.

"Dodger," said Francis, "Do you imagine Fagin is missing us? I've never been apart from him like this, I sincerely hope he won't feel I'm choosing to let him down."

Dodger looked up, wishing he could be nearer to his friend, to reassuringly lie against him with just a small amount of wire between them. Francis really was a different dog these days; devoted to Fagin and surprisingly resilient, keeping it together even in such a frightening situation. Dodger was proud, but then even more ashamed that he'd let his friend get captured. He'd come so far… it would be tragic for Francis to lose his life to some savage after he'd only just turned his life around. Dodger felt an aching affection for the pompous dog, and it weighed heavy on him as their predicament hit home harder with every minute he listened to the grieving dog's cries. "He'll be missing ya, Francis," Dodger said, "probably worried by now. Fagin knows you're his dog, he won't think you've just run."

"Suddenly the old place doesn't look quite so bad," Francis chuckled, trying to remain upbeat even though he was scared and shaken by the image of the bull terrier being dragged to her fate. "Who'd have thought I'd long for your run-down abode? It seems I really am part of your gang."

"'Course you are. We're brothers now."

"I can't tell you what comfort those words are, here in this dreadful place," said Francis, "Were you not here, I fear I would lose my mind."

Another uncomfortable, miserable night dragged by, and then, the door finally opened once more. Breakfast time. Dodger readied himself. The human that entered was different to last time; this would be in the young dog's favour as this one wouldn't know that he'd made an escape attempt before. Even with the din made by the other in-mates crashing around him, Dodger was focused and calm. The human, on the other hand, seemed distracted and tired, hardly paying any attention to what he was doing. The cage door opened, and Dodger made his move. Before the man knew what was happening, the mutt was out, using the human's bent back as a launch pad to jump from and soon tearing across the room, up the stairs, as fast as his legs could carry him.

The basement erupted in noise- dogs barking their support to the escape artist, the human scrambling to fix his mistake. Adrenaline pumping through him, Dodger couldn't look back, not even for Francis, he just ran, taking advantage of the open basement door while he still could. As he ran up through the filthy house, he could feel his heart pounding in his ears. Dodger knew he'd need to be alert; for all he knew, the fighting dogs could be anywhere. Desperately, he tried to catch a whiff of fresh air… something to guide him to an open door or window, and safety. His nose led him upstairs to a bedroom, its window hanging open. Peering down to the yard below, he caught a glimpse of the brutes, all pacing back and forth in mesh runs. With a jolt, Dodger saw what they were all fixated on- the bull terrier. The bitch was tied up, trembling, seemingly placed there to act as a tease to the fighters before they were allowed at her. Feeling physically ill as her cries reached him, Dodger knew he'd have to come back, not just for Francis, but to try and get as many dogs out of that basement as he could. With the sounds of the human stomping up the stairs after him, there was no time, he just had to get himself out- and fast. He leapt out onto the porch, and then over the fence, ignoring the frenzied barking of the fighting dogs who were livid with his intrusion. Once clear of the fence and that hellish place, Dodger ran, giving no thought to where he might be going just as long as it was a safe distance from where he'd come from. He was out.

For a good while, Dodger wasn't completely certain where he was, the dirty streets unfamiliar to him. The journey in the van hadn't taken too long though, so he was confident that he wouldn't be far from somewhere he'd recognise. Initially, the thrill of being able to walk and run _at all, _to feel the sun on his back and to have control over his own life again seemed to lift him, filling him with relief and pushing him onwards. Gradually though, the desire to get home so he could sort the mess out for good became stronger, and he became more focused to the task at hand. After walking on for what felt like forever, he realised that he was in the Bronx. With a little more idea of the direction he'd need to take, he ran out to catch a ride with passing traffic. When in a hurry, car-surfing sure came in handy. The further he got from the dog fighters' lair, the more a guilt gnawed at Dodger's heart. It felt wrong, something akin to cowardice to just run away. What must Francis be feeling now- the only person he felt he could rely on, gone? Dodger had to continually remind himself that he wasn't turning his back on Francis or any of the others; he'd return with help as soon as he possibly could. Focussing hard to make sure he'd later remember the path taken, the exhausted young mutt finally neared the old barge.

The salty air felt comforting against Dodger's face, a reassuring sign that he was home. How could he have seriously considered leaving this place? His heart beat faster at the thought of seeing his friends again; it hadn't been long, but he'd missed them more than he could say. With them by his side, he'd have all he needed to pull off the daunting and gutsy rescue mission; full of himself though Dodger might have been, he knew he wouldn't stand a chance on his own. To his disappointment but not surprise, the barge was empty. The young dog groaned heavily and collapsed to the ground. The adrenaline that had gotten this far had worn off and he knew only exhaustion and a constant, nagging fear. With nothing else for it, he sat in wait, hoping desperately that his trusted friends would soon be back and they could face Francis' captors together.

* * *

Dodger paced restlessly back and forth, getting near frantic as he realised how long he'd been away from Francis. To the bulldog, it must have looked like Dodger had simply deserted him. The thought only strengthened his resolve to get back there, but he was unable to act until he had allies with him, and unable to go actively searching for them when they could return home any time. The frustration was driving the young dog crazy, and every now and then he'd kick out in anger. As the hours passed, his mind went into overdrive, working out the way forward. He had a lot on his side- Einstein was large and strong enough to break doors down, Tito was fearless and with a gift for electronics- perhaps he could take out the dog snatcher's van?- and Rita was cunning, fast and tough. Dodger planned it all out in his head, and slowly a calm fell over him. He knew what to do, and he knew they could do it.

Looking down to the old barge, Dodger felt… different. To be there didn't bring back the sting of memories of his mother, but something else. A feeling of home, belonging. His mother was a rotten piece of work all right, but Dodger made up his mind with a new and ringing clarity, that he would not let her take this from him. This was his home, his family, his gang; and he was their leader.

"Dodger! Where've ya been all this time?"

Dodger's head shot up, and he saw Tito running fast towards him. He couldn't remember ever being so pleased to see anyone.

"Hey, where's Frankie? He's with you, right?" the little dog yapped.

"He's in trouble, but we're getting him out," Dodger said. He looked beyond the Chihuahua, and his heart skipped when he saw Rita and Einstein coming over too. Finally, _finally _he'd be able to go back for Francis. "All those dogs going missing, it's dog fighters. We've gotta get Francis now or they'll make a bait dog outta him."

"_He what?_" Tito hollered, "Let's go, let's go! We're gettin' Frankie out, and I'll take down anyone who gets in our way!"

Rita ran up to them, the look of relief on her face falling away as she realised that Francis wasn't there. "Dodge?"

"What's the matter?" asked Einstein, "Isn't Frankie here?"

"I'll explain what's happenin' on the way, but we need to get goin'," Dodger said, trying to calmly usher them into action. "We got taken, Francis and me- I couldn't get him out, not on my own."

Uncertainty flickered in Rita's eyes, not knowing what they'd be running into, but she followed after Dodger without hesitation. Whatever the danger, she trusted him to get them through it. Rita trotted alongside Dodger, keeping pace and trying to ascertain whether he'd been hurt. He looked a little tired perhaps, but he was bright eyed and apparently uninjured, just eager to get back to Francis. It was hard to be apprehensive when running so close to Dodger, and after two days apart from him, just his presence gave Rita courage. With Tito constantly trying to dart ahead and Einstein plodding along just behind, they formed a united front.

"So, what happened?" Rita asked, following Dodger up onto a taxi.

"Dog fighters, man!" Tito shouted from in front, "They're gonna use Frankie as practice- so we're getting there first to teach 'em a lesson."

Rita's blood ran cold. _Dog fighters_… humans who'd turn dogs into trained killers for their own entertainment. Would they find themselves attacked by the monsters themselves? And that stupid Chihuahua would run right in with no thought!

"You're not teachin' no one nothing," Rita snapped, "What are we gonna do, Dodge?"

Waiting until he wasn't jumping around so much, Dodger replied himself. "The bait dogs are being kept down in a basement, that's where they've got Francis. We're not just runnin' in there, I've got it all worked out. The fight dogs are in the yard, penned or chained- if we play it right, we won't have to take 'em on at all." He set down on the concrete, with Rita close to his side, and gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, we've got this."

Rita trotted nearer to him, so that his fur brushed against hers as they ran on. That Dodger had managed to get himself free really was something, and she was enormously thankful that he had. She didn't expect that Dodger realised just how scared she'd been for him, for him and Francis. In all honesty, Rita was scared now- and as far as she was concerned, only an idiot wouldn't be, but she was focused, knowing that she'd soon need to rely on everything she'd learned in her first year. If they could just stay out of the way of the fighting dogs, they'd hopefully have a good chance at bringing Francis to safety- or so Rita figured from the vague information Dodger had given them. "How far is it, Dodge?" she asked.

Dodger frowned, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "This looks familiar, we should get there before dark. With the fighters in the yard, we can get 'em barking, make a distraction- it'll be easier if we're there before sundown."

"What will I do, Dodger, man?" Tito asked, turning around and running sideways.

"Electronics," said Dodger, "They've got a van out front, it's what they use to take dogs off the streets- best you put it out of action for a while."

Tito's eyes shone with excitement. "All right, man!" he exclaimed, dancing about.

Rita exchanged a knowing glance with Dodger- it seemed to her a wise move to keep Tito as far away from the fighting dogs as possible, they were likely not to have mercy in the face of an overconfident and foolish youngster like him.

The sun had almost slipped beyond the horizon, but the dogs finally arrived in front of the old house. A familiar and spine-tingling smell came back to Dodger, confirming without a doubt that they were in the right place. From within, the faint sounds of frantic barking and crying came drifting towards them.

"Oh, Frankie…" Rita sighed. Everything about this place have her a bad feeling deep in her bones. The sooner they got Francis to safety, the better.

"I don't like this place," said Einstein, his ears pinned back and his tail tucked up to his belly. "Is Frankie really in there?"

In contrast to his companions, Tito was bristling for a fight, his eyes bright as he anticipated the action about to commence. "Let's go, let's go! What are we waiting for, man?"

Dodger stepped in front of the others. "All right, here we go. We're gonna need to get those creeps away from the van so you can break in and put it out of action. Rita, you come round the back with me, get the fighters all riled up.

Rita nodded.

"Tito, Einstein," Dodger continued, "once you hear it heat up outside, you get into the van. An alarm will probably go off, and bring humans back your way. The more chaos and confusion, the better. Just make sure you get outta there pronto. If you can run in the front door after the human, do it, otherwise just take it down. You've got the muscle for that, right, Einstein?"

Einstein thumped his tail on the ground. He was a little nervous, but glad to have a job to do and eager to see Francis again. More than anything, he trusted Dodger, and was proud to be by his side.

"And once we're in?" asked Rita.

Dodger smiled and shook his head. "Once we're in, we get down to the basement. Einy can break a few doors down if we need it. Rit, maybe try and stay in the yard as long as you can, see if you can keep the man busy while we go down- but if one of the fighters is let loose, get yourself outta there. We'll let out as many dogs from the basement as possible and then… then we've just got to hope the confusion will be enough that we can all get out of there."

If Rita, Einstein and Tito were daunted, they didn't show it in their faces. The looked to Dodger, each poised to get going. As he met the eyes of each of his unflinching allies, the betrayal of his mother couldn't have been further from the young dog's mind. He had something much bigger.

"You guys ready?" Dodger asked, and his question was met with confident barks and howls. "Okay, troops- let's do this!"


	15. Rescue and Escape

Their hackles bristled with anticipation, Dodger and Rita slunk around the side of the house, already picking up the scents and sounds of the fighting dogs beyond the fence. Sniffing at the fence line, Dodger carefully picked out a safe place to go over, and suddenly felt nervous. He was relying heavily on the fighters being secured as they'd been when he saw them last- and it wasn't just his own life he was putting on the line. He glanced behind him at Rita. She was tough and could be a fierce fighter, but there was no escaping the fact that she was lightly built and certainly no match for those broad, heavily jawed dogs who had spent their whole lives being trained to kill.

"Right here," he whispered, sure that they were far enough from the fighters to keep out of trouble.

Rita breathed deeply, her heart pounding. "Here goes… good luck, Dodge."

Using a trashcan as a step up, Dodger scaled the fence, with Rita a right at his heels. For a second or two, the fighting dogs didn't take in the presence of intruders, but then, as if a light switch went off, all four rose at once, issuing ferocious barks and snarls, their mouths soon frothing in fury. To Dodger's immense relief, they were all penned in, but then with a wave of horror, he saw that the bull terrier had gone from the chain, and a petrified looking Scout had taken her place.

Charging up and down the yard, barking to torment the fighters, Rita finally caught sight of the shepherd who was tied to a tree. He was a shadow of the dog she'd once been close to, his face full of fear and desperation, his body hunched. "Scout, Scout…" she breathed, skidding to a stop in disbelief. Dodger hadn't said a thing about Scout being here; had he been in so much of a hurry that it had slipped his mind?

"Rita? What the hell are you doing here?" Scout barked, lifting his head and stunned to recognise the intruders. "_Get outta here!_" He glared at Dodger, unable to believe that he'd willingly lead her straight into danger.

Boldly, Dodger charged up to the pens holding the fight dogs and jumped at the mesh, further tormenting the captives. They were in a frenzy, and it could only be a matter of time before the human would come running. Elsewhere, Rita ran to Scout's side, and began to pull at the collar that was tight around his neck. She whined; those evil humans were almost choking him. Shaking, she fiddled the buckle, but it was heavy and hard to dislodge. Desperate as she was to get Scout loose, progress was slow, the leather strap barely budging.

"_Hey!" _screamed the man, racing out into the yard, apparently only just noticing that there were unwanted visitors. Swearing angrily, be picked up a rusted rake that had been leaning against the house and waved it threateningly at Dodger, a look of recognition and fury on his face.

Dodger jumped down from the pens and snarled, unafraid of the human. He wasn't going to be taken by this creep a second time. Just then, a car alarm blared. Dodger grinned; it seemed that Einstein taken the cue and smashed through the windows. He lurched forward, biting at the leg of the man's pants, slowing him down as he moved to run to the van. For Tito to have a real chance of making some proper damage, he'd need a little time. After a couple of minutes of struggling, the man yanked himself free. Dodger ran ahead, hoping that his being in the way would help Einstein and Tito stay safe- he knew that Tito for one would show little caution the face of the threat.

Meanwhile, Rita continued to struggle with Scout's collar, ignoring the increasingly enraged growls and shouts of the fight dogs behind her. Even knowing they were secured, she wanted to be away from them as soon as possible. "How long have you been here?" she asked Scout, who was quivering.

"Must have been at least a week," the shepherd replied. It was odd to be seeing Rita again in these circumstances after their fall-out, but despite his fears for her safety, to see a familiar face who wanted to help him was hugely comforting after his ordeal. "They tied me up here this morning; the dog they used before me, a bull terrier- she didn't make it. So I guess they thought they'd let Brutus have a go at me as I'm larger."

Rita glanced up from the collar, taking in the scarred appearance of the largest dog. It seemed his name was fitting. "We'll get you out, promise."

Back in the house, Dodger darted under the feet of the man who was swearing as he saw the damage to the van. To his immense relief, his friends were already out of the way, and when the man opened the door, completely distracted by the state of his vehicle, they were able to sneak right into the house.

"All right, come on!" Dodger called to them, leading the way to the basement. He knew that it wouldn't be long before the man would be back after them, and that every moment was critical. They came to the basement door, the cries from within giving a clear signal to Einstein and Tito that they were in the right place.

"Knock it down, Einy!" Tito shouted, jumping up and down. "We're coming, Frankie!" He bared his teeth, letting it known to the world that he'd let nothing stand between himself and his friend.

With an almighty crash, Einstein broke through, and he tumbled forward down the stairs. Grunting as he staggered to his feet, he looked up to see twenty-two dogs in cages, all barking hysterically… and there, in the middle of the top row, was Francis.

"_Frankie!_" Tito exclaimed, rushing forward.

"D-Dodger," Francis stammered, a look of happy bewilderment on his broad face, "I almost didn't believe you'd come back for me."

Dodger grinned, overjoyed to see that the bulldog was still safe. "'Course I did. Just had to get the team together first- Rita's busy springin' Scout right now." He clambered up and fiddled with the latches; the cages were old and came open easily, and soon all twenty-two dogs were free. Unbeknownst to him, Tito had gone running back upstairs as soon as he'd greeted Francis- he hadn't come all this way _not _to have a pop at those moron fighting dogs.

"You really are something, Dodger," Scrap said, jumping down from his cage, his tail wagging wildly.

"Absitively posolutely I am," Dodger winked. "Now let's get outta here, fast."

A screaming yelp filled the air, causing the four of them to lift their heads in surprise. Something was wrong.

Standing beside Brutus' pen, the rusted door now hanging open, the man laughed as he watched the commotion, oblivious to the escape taking place inside. Intent as she'd been on freeing Scout, Rita hadn't been quick enough to move when she'd heard the clanging of the pen opening, and had been winded as the crazed Brutus slammed heavily into her side. Scrambling to her feet, she knew she'd have to be fast- it was the only advantage she had over this monstrous dog. She dodged out the way and ran across the yard, but Brutus was too clever to be lured into a chase. Instead, he went for Scout, the cowering shepherd who had no means of escape whatsoever. Rita's whole body shook as Scout's scream filled the air, and seeing no other option, she ran forward. If the fighter was enough of a coward that he'd target a chained dog, then he'd just have to take on the two of them at once. Rita dived in and bit ferociously at any part of the fighter that she could reach, but as he retaliated, she was left in no doubt as to why her adversary was so prized as a killer. He was strong, using his full weight to pull his opponents into vulnerable positions. It was all Rita could do to prevent herself getting dragged down, let alone make some damage to him. But she had to get to Scout's collar…

_Slam! _Rita was sent onto her back with a thud, pinned down by the heavier dog and at his mercy. She snarled defiantly, giving him the deepest look of hatred she could muster, and kicked out with her hind leg, just managing to clip him between his. It wasn't a strong blow, but it sent the message that she'd be going down fighting.

"You made a grave mistake wandering into _my _yard, princess," Brutus growled, his voice raspy and fangs dripping with saliva. Then suddenly, he yet out an almighty yelp, and flung himself away from his opponent.

Instinctively, Rita scrambled to her feet and back to Scout. Finally, miraculously, she managed to loosen the collar enough for him to get free. As he made a run for it, the shepherd rammed his body into Brutus', knocking him sideways and revealing what was causing the fighter's pain. It was Tito, hanging on tight to the larger dog's sensitive posterior area with his sharp little teeth. Relieved though she was to have survived this long without serious injury, Rita knew that she couldn't make a getaway herself until she'd gotten the Chihuahua to safety.

"Tito, hang on!" she cried, and launched herself back into the fray. Within seconds though, Tito had been sent flying, and Brutus snapped at him hard.

Tito gave a high pitched yelp as his ear was badly torn, but he turned courageously back to his opponent, ready to keep fighting until the end.

Rita had had enough. If the pup wasn't bright enough to know when to make a run for it, then she'd make his mind up for him. She swiftly darted in and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, ignoring his screaming protests. Now, with no one else to look out for, she could comfortably outrun the likes of Brutus.

"Stop messing around, Brutus," the man screamed, "_get them!_"

At the moment that Rita scrambled up to the safety of the roof, the yard filled with dogs. Holding on tight to the struggling Tito, she peered down, and happily saw Dodger and Einstein among what looked like about ten others. But where was Francis?

Dodger charged forward, and looked on with a dreadful sinking feeling as the man angrily threw a brick at the nearest dog and then… opened the next two pens. There was mayhem. Dogs barking, screaming, yelping as they ran frantically to find an escape route. Amid the confusion, Dodger managed to keep track of Einstein, but he'd lost Francis in the chaos, and there was no sign of Rita or Tito. His heart in his throat, he looked around desperately. Scout had been freed… so surely Rita was safe too?

Back in the house, Francis was lying on his belly and struggling. In the rush to escape, one of the larger dogs had knocked a bookcase which had fallen, trapping him against the floor. He was unhurt, but it was difficult to move. There was a sound that stopped his squirming in an instant- a low, rumbling growl. Freezing, Francis could tell from the dog's scent that it wasn't one of the familiar dogs from the basement. It had to be one of the fighting dogs… a killer. Thinking fast, Francis rolled his eyes up onto his head, let his tongue lol out, and then stayed completely still. He could hear the dog's heavy breath and the clicking of claws against the wooden floor, both getting increasingly and alarmingly loud as he drew closer. Francis held his breath as the dog stopped right beside him. After an agonising wait, the dog moved on. Even once the immediate danger had passed, the bulldog couldn't bring himself to move- but for how long could he just stay there?

Just as Francis went to move, there came pawsteps once again.

"Hey, you can resurrect yourself now, it's just me," came Dodger's voice.

Utterly relieved, Francis exhaled. "Oh, thank goodness! I'm afraid I'm stuck, could you…?"

"We're on it," Dodger said, and as he was joined by Einstein, they shoved at the furniture to get Francis free. "Now we really gotta move- come on, we'll go out through the upstairs window, I can show ya the way from there."

Amidst the shouts, barks and yelps coming from the yard, the three of them scaled the stairs, their paws barely touching the floor in their hurry. Dodger led the way bedroom window, his escape route from that morning. "All right, you can get over the fence easily from out this window… Einy, let Francis go ahead so you can help him out if he needs it."

Before they could disappear out the window, a rumbling growl announced the arrival of Brutus at the doorway. He was panting heavily, overwhelmed by the mass escape and determined to teach a lesson to the trouble-makers who'd brought about all the chaos.

"Get out!" Dodger shouted to his friends. It was his job to keep the safe, and he wasn't about to let them down now. His fur bristling, he squared up to Brutus. The larger dog had fresh wounds over his body, probably, Dodger figured, souvenirs left from fights with dogs fleeing the basement. He could only hope that they'd made it to safety.

And then they clashed. Dodger ducked and dived, knowing that he'd have to rely on his wits to get himself out this one- he couldn't hold off a dog like this for long. The room was cluttered, and the bulkier Brutus was at a disadvantage… just as long as Dodger didn't let him get a firm hold of him. Living up to his name, Dodger moved quickly, and managed to lure the larger dog away from the window and into the hall, putting precious distance between the attacker and Francis and Einstein. To his surprise, he looked up to see another dog charging over- Scrap.

"Shouldn't you be making a getaway?" Dodger asked between aiming bites at Brutus' shoulder.

Scrap lowered his head, glaring at Brutus- his sire. "I think I owe you one, and besides, I've got some old scores to settle." With that, he ran in, ploughing into the larger dog.

Brutus was not remotely unnerved by the new challenge. Even as he fought, he sneered at the bait dog. "I woulda thought you'd learned your lesson by now, you useless runt."

As the fight rumbled into the hall, Dodger spied an opportunity- the door of the bathroom was wide open; if they could somehow manage to shut Brutus inside, they'd have their chance to get away. It had to be soon; the man couldn't be distracted by the mayhem down in the yard forever. Dodger tried to communicate his idea with Scrap with subtle glances and movements of his head, and it seemed that his ally understood as he bit down on Brutus' ear and started to try and drag him towards the bathroom. The two of them moved Brutus, oblivious, up to the doorway, but a new challenge remained; the fight dog was strong, unflinching, and as soon as either of them backed down to make an escape, he'd have them down. In his concentration, Dodger barely noticed the creaking of wood behind him, and a rumbling growl…

Simultaneously, Rita and Tito joined in the fray; she darted in and clamped her jaws around Brutus' throat, while he went between his hind legs for a second assault. The fight dog could not stand firm against the full force of four on top of him- already he was tired from earlier altercations. He stumbled through the doorway, falling onto his side.

Dodger glanced around, and to his amazement, saw that Einstein and Francis had come back through the window, and their snarls and aggressive postures were now sending a clear signal to Brutus that it was time to back down- the fight dog was cornered and outnumbered.

"Now!" Dodger cried, and he and Scrap leapt back, with Rita and after a few moments, Tito, following their lead. "Block the door, _Einy!_"

Einstein was already on it, pushing forward a chest of drawers, his muscles straining with the effort. Francis joined him, puffing, and together they shoved the chest under the door handle, trapping the enraged Brutus inside.

Even as the sound of his friends panting surrounded him, Dodger knew there would be no time to catch their breath. "Let's get outta here!" he cried, and no one needed telling twice. He led the way, using his previous escape route, noticing as he did that the drama in the yard was subsiding, and the human storming into the house. There was no time to lose now.

There was a clattering of paws on the pavement as all six dogs made it safely over the fence (Tito had been once again gathered up in Rita's jaws). With a relief so strong he felt he could sing right then and there, Dodger saw that they'd all come out. Then, they ran; pushing themselves further and faster than any of them ever had before. Francis was soon gasping for breath, but even to feel the pleasantly cool night air on his face after being trapped in the basement felt wonderful, and he just kept running, knowing that he couldn't let himself be taken back. Even Scrap, who'd never known a life outside of the dog fighter's property, was keeping up as they raced over the tops of cars until they were far from the dreadful place. It was totally alien to him, but with adrenaline still pumping through his veins, he just went with it.

Finally, Dodger was satisfied that they'd put enough distance between themselves and his and Francis' captor. Panting heavily, he collapsed on the ground, a broad smile coming to his muzzle. They'd done it!

"We did it, we did it!" Tito hollered, jumping up and down on top of Francis who was still panting.

Einstein and Rita threw their heads back, howling in celebration, while Dodger got back to his feet, laughing as relief flooded over him. The air filled with the sounds of joyous barking and laughter, as the dogs jumped around, nuzzling and nipping one another as the realisation that it was all over and that Francis was safely back with them hit home. Francis was beaming as he found himself pulled in all directions by his excited friends- his family. It was strange a feeling indeed to be so overwhelmed with happiness to be back among the very ragamuffins at which he'd so recently looked down his nose.

"I can't believe I'm out of there!" Scrap exclaimed, his eyes bright. "You're one crazy pup, Dodger."

Dodger's tail was still wagging as he turned to Scrap. "Looks like crazy paid off this time," he said, smirking. The gratitude was obvious in the bait dog's eyes. "You know, I couldn't have gotten out of there without you- d'you think you'd wanna join the team full time? We can make an opening for a dog like you."

"Yeah, come on, man!" Tito cried. He and all the others looked to Scrap expectantly.

Scrap smiled but shook his head. "I'd love to, but I can't be with a human, not after what's happened. I'm sure your master is good and kind, but I could never trust a human now. I'm sorry."

Dodger was deeply disappointed, the resilient and courageous Scrap would have been a valuable addition to the gang, and after the long nights sleeping alongside the young Pit Bull in the basement, he felt a bond with him. He nodded, but his eyes gave away his eyes gave away his disappointment. "I get it. If I'm honest, I don't blame ya."

"Maybe we'll catch you round sometime," Rita said, smiling. "Thanks, by the way, for helping us out back there."

"I concur!" Francis declared.

An idea suddenly came to Dodger. "Hey, I met a dog who was lookin' for new recruits- some of his pack had been snatched by the fighters. I have a feeling he'd be happy to have you. If you're interested, I'll take you round there in the morning."

Scrap wagged his tail- delighted that he might not be left all alone and defenceless in the city after all. He barked in happiness. "I'll think I'll have to take you up on that offer," he said. "You'll meet me back here?"

"Absitively," Dodger said, and then he found himself yawning. He had no idea how late it was, but he was exhausted. All of a sudden, he wanted nothing more than to be back in the barge with Fagin. Poor Scrap just didn't know what he was missing.

Scrap gave a yawn in response to Dodger's. "Well, in that case, I'll leave you to get home. See you tomorrow." He gave the mutt a playful nip and then wandered over to lie down behind a discarded cardboard box. "Goodnight."

"'Night, Scrap," Dodger said, and then he turned back to his gang. Like himself, Tito and Rita were wounded from their run-ins with Brutus, but still, they'd all come through. He felt an incredibly strong sense of belonging as he looked over the gang, and they all looked back to him, acknowledging him as their leader. Dodger had been rejected by his own mother, and he didn't know if that pain would ever completely leave him, but he now knew that he wasn't alone. Almost all of the gang had faced the aching feelings of being unwanted, their own supposed family having turned their backs on them. That common bond drew them closer, and Dodger felt a sudden certainty that he'd found his place- it was with them, and together they could get through anything. "All right, troops, let's get back to Fagin. Time to go home."


	16. Heart to Heart

A nudge to the side of her head woke Rita from her sleep in the early hours of the next morning. She blinked, trying to focus on her surroundings. Once she'd recovered from the abrupt disturbance, she noticed Dodger standing over her. "What's up?" She yawned, a little worried by the look on his face, but nowhere near enough to leap out of bed.

"I want to talk to you, that's all." Dodger's signature smug tone sounded rather forced, and he hoped that Rita would be tired enough that she wouldn't notice.

"It can't wait 'til sun-up?" Rita asked irritably; it didn't seem like there was enough of an emergency to warrant her rude awakening- especially not after what had been one heck of an exhausting night.

"This is for your ears only. No one's goin' to disturb us if they're asleep." Dodger could tell that she was still unimpressed, "Please- it's gotta be now, I might not be able to do this later."

Rita picked up on the urgency in his voice and reluctantly dragged herself out of bed. It meant a lot that Dodger seemed to be trusting her enough to confide in, but his timing could have done with some work. She quietly followed after him, taking care not to wake anyone else. Not surprisingly, they were dead to the world, apparently knocked out by the heroics of several hours before. Dodger kept walking, looking back every now and then to make sure she was following close behind. Rita recognised the spot where he finally sat, the same place they'd spent the night when Dodger had broken down uncontrollable tears. Slightly anxious as the memory came clearly back to her, she sat beside him and said nothing, waiting for him to talk.

Dodger breathed deeply. This was as hard as he'd imagined, even just to start speaking. He looked out at the water, pretending that Rita wasn't even there. It would be easier that way. The night air was cold, and he would have much preferred to have stayed tucked up in bed, but he needed to do this.

"You've picked up that Fagin took in my mother when she was pregnant, right?" Dodger finally said, "She had two other pups, but they died before I even opened my eyes." He took a moment to collect himself as his voice began to tremble, "I was about a month old, give or take a bit, and she just walked out. Einstein told me that she said she had some master to go to, she couldn't go back with a pup in tow. I didn't understand it, I was only young; but I thought 'aren't mothers supposed to stand by their kids?' What was so great about this master she had that made her choose him over her own son?" Whatever he was doing now wasn't working, Dodger felt he had to get up. He started walking, allowing him to focus on his own footsteps. He wouldn't let himself break down again.

Sensing that Rita was keeping close, Dodger continued, his mouth dry. "I was young enough that I could just forget about it most of the time- I had Einstein, I had Fagin, and very soon I had the whole city open to me. If I was sad about my mom I could just push it away, it wasn't as if I hardly remembered her anyhow. I was just a little kid, and I was busy _being _a little kid. I could forget about her most of the time, and I was happy. There's a photo somewhere… of my mother I mean. Fagin found a disposable camera around the time when I was born, otherwise I probably wouldn't know what my own mother looked like. It was always there though, that memory of waking up and her not being there. You can guess how ecstatic I was when you went and pulled the same thing." There was a bitterness to his tone that he'd been unable to hold back.

Rita had been listening sympathetically up until that point, but wasn't prepared to be guilt tripped. "I'm on your side here, Dodger," she said, her voice firm and strong, "If you just want to take shots at me, I'll go right back to bed."

"You're right, I'm sorry." Knowing he'd almost messed up his big confession, Dodger was in a half mind to pack it in and go back to bed himself; but he'd gotten this far, and he didn't imagine he'd ever get it all off his chest otherwise. He had to tell someone or it'd drive him crazy. He took a moment to compose himself before carrying on. "I was out that night, pickin' up girls, the usual. I was round the back of that warehouse… ya know, the patch that big brown shaggy guy, I forget his name, the place he's been tryin' to make into a meeting spot. Anyhow, I was round the back and I came on to this small gathering. It was her, my mother. She had a couple of guys hanging off her, playin' up to them. It was almost like I was watching myself," Dodger's voice broke and he had to pause. "I guess I was staring 'cause she noticed me. She spoke to me, just saying hello, but it wasn't like she knew that I was her kid. Then I realised she was comin' on to me." Once again, Dodger struggled to get the words out. Rita was staring intensely into his face as he spoke, a look of pity creeping up behind her eyes. "I asked her about her master, and then it dawned on her, she knew it was me. She laughed. Said she made it up so she could get away. She couldn't stand being tied down by having a kid in tow. Fagin and Einstein could take care of me, so why should she hang around? She'd never wanted me; she waited until I didn't need her to survive, and then got herself free. I felt sick. I just ran. I ran all the way home, and then you found me." Dodger whined, and realised that he'd started shaking. "She didn't want me, Rita! My own mother!"

"Oh Dodge, I'm sorry." Rita moved closer to nuzzle his face, "I'm so sorry." She had long wondered about Dodger's birth family and his early days, and had suspected that it was a tender area. The thought of anyone walking out on their own tiny pup for no good reason was nothing short of repulsive, and to know how deeply that poor excuse of a mother had hurt Dodger left Rita in a seething rage. "How could anyone…?" Getting over her initial anger and pity, she spoke firmly, "It's not your fault. Whatever was wrong with her that made her leave you, it wasn't your fault."

Dodger stopped walking, rounding upon Rita to stare into her face. He searched for the reassurance that it wasn't him with the problem- he'd always known it had to be, and that feeling that haunted him drove him to crave the attention and admiration of others as he did. If his mother was the problem, why did Rita also walk out on him? "I musta done something for my own mother not to love me enough… love me at all. Something's the matter with me, Rita, and I can't change it."

Rita just shook her head resolutely. "That's bull," she said, "There's nothing wrong with you, nothing at all. You've not been unwanted for a second in your life. Fagin obviously loved you right from the start, you're like the apple of his eye, and Einstein's too. I know it doesn't make up for what you lost, but really it was your mom who missed out. She was so wrapped up in her own stupid life that she missed out on knowing you, and you're something special."

"If I was so special, I think my own mother would have noticed." Dodger scoffed, still hoping to be convinced otherwise.

"You don't think I know you better than someone who was only around when you were a tiny pup? I woulda thought you valued my opinion more than that." Rita frowned; Dodger could be so stubborn when he wanted to be. "It's not just me anyhow, it's all of us. The gang only works 'cause you make it work; without you, we're just a bunch of ragtag mutts messin' around. Not just anyone could make a street dog out of Francis. He'd still be in that terrible place- or even dead, if it wasn't for you! You gave him a future, and you made us a family. And as for my walking out; it wasn't you that drove me to it, but it was you I came home for."

Dodger had found himself coming around until the last sentence stirred up the pain of rejection all over again. "I was gonna leave. I would have walked out if Fagin wasn't relyin' on me. I stopped myself. Could you do that? You didn't manage it last time." Dodger was surprised to see the hurt in Rita's face and stopped himself before he said anything he'd regret. She'd always hated it when he brought up her running away, ashamed probably.

Rita looked at him, despairing. He knew how to twist the knife in, that was for sure, but she didn't let herself get drawn in by his lashing out. Trying to stay calm, her voice nonetheless shook a little as she spoke. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm sorry before you get it? This not about me, anyhow, this is about your mother. And don't you _dare_ try and compare me to someone like her. I'm sorry, Dodge, but I don't know what else you want me to do. I made a mistake and I learned from it; it's what people do. You gotta let go of the past and trust me." Even as she said it, Rita knew that at least on some level Dodger _did _trust her- they wouldn't be sitting out there in the middle of the night, talking, if that wasn't the case. He was trying to reach out, it just seemed to be a struggle for him.

For a long while, Dodger sat there in silence, trying to accept what he was being told. Finally, he allowed himself to soften towards Rita, knowing that she was on his side. When it came down to it, she'd come back to him… and the only reason she'd run away in the first place was to fix things with the first person she'd run away from. She'd just been a little kid blundering around trying to make everything right- it was pointless to hold onto grudge over something like that. "I do. About as much as I can trust anyone. And you're right, it's not about you. We're in this for the long run, you and me. I know it, I just get scared. It's hard to let go of that, my mom screwed me up pretty good," he said quietly, and he began to smile, just a little, "Guess it was all for the best though, things turned out all right in the end. I probably wouldn't still be stickin' around if I had a mother on my back the whole time- and I might not have even found you."

"That's true."

"I'd rather have you around than a mother; there's stuff I could do with you that wouldn't work so good with my own flesh and blood." Dodger grinned slyly.

"In your dreams, Dodgie." Rita nipped at his ear in jest, "I don't know what would have happened to me if you hadn't come along- pound probably, at least until they disposed of me for good. Can't say I'm sorry I got swept away with some bad little scruffer, it all worked out pretty well for me," she grinned, "And you know, maybe you got so good 'cause you had to work it all out yourself? You did it your way 'cause you were forced to, and it made you what you are. There's no point mopin' about the past; it's all over and you came out the other side."

Dodger nodded. Whatever his mother, or anyone else for that matter, might think, he undeniably had a lot going for him. He had no match on the streets, not even Rita. Any reputation he had was earned by his own trial and error, he was self-made with no parental influence. Under his leadership, the gang had gotten Francis out of that hell-hole- and saved Scrap and Scout and countless others in the process. Surely, that was something to be proud of. He thought of a young Rita, shivering alone in the pound, awaiting her death. If he'd somehow been responsible for preventing that, then he had all the more reason to be proud. Dodger noticed Rita yawning. "You want to go back to bed?"

"If you're feeling okay?"

"I'm fine. It might take a while still, but I'll get better. I hope so anyway," Dodger said, feeling tired himself having spent a long time working up the courage to have that conversation.

"I'm glad to hear it. Eventually you won't think of her so much. It'll get easier." Rita said between yawns, and then turned to head home. A weight had lifted off her chest, and it seemed the same was true of Dodger. She was hopeful that he could move forward now, to get back to his old self. Things were going to get better.

Dodger led the way back to the barge, and felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Whatever he'd been dreading in telling Rita had come to nothing, in fact, he felt better for it. With it out in the open- or at least as out in the open as he'd ever allow it to be- he could move on from the hurt his mother had caused and make the life he wanted for himself unencumbered by the burden. "This is it though, I don't want any of this brought up, not ever- and no one else needs to know anything." A solemn nod from Rita reassured him that he had nothing to worry about. "Thanks, by the way. You're the best, you know that?"

Rita smiled, her eyes full of affection, "'Course I know that. Come on, I should be fast asleep in bed."

They exchanged playful nips to one another's sides as they started off home, the usual joyfulness that had been lost from Dodger that night round the back of the warehouse finally returning. Rita was quick to pick up on the change in him and roughly shoved him to the side with a rumbling growl. It had been too long- weeks and weeks- since Dodger had really laughed with her, and she'd begun to think that it was an unwelcome by-product of their growing up. But it seemed that the old Dodger hadn't been lost, he just needed a little push. They scuffled, becoming louder and louder in their growling and shrieking. Soon Rita was on her back and gasping for breath, her sides hurting from the fit of hysterical laughter that she and Dodger had fallen into. She wasn't quite sure where it had all come from- relief, perhaps, that the dark little cloud that had hung over them was shifting, but it sure felt wonderful.

"Are you drunk Rita-girl?" Dodger snickered and jabbed her in the neck, tickling. For someone supposedly in need of her bed, Rita was very much overflowing with energy. It made him happy, in a strange light-headed way that he'd not felt for what seemed like forever.

Feeding off one another's giddiness, they came onto the barge still laughing and pouncing on one another. Rita shushed Dodger through her giggles as he led the way down the stairs. In high spirits though she might be, she did want to go to sleep sometime soon- and there would be no chance of that if they woke Tito. She quietly padded back to her bed, lay down with her head sticking out the curtain and watched happily as Dodger strutted back to his. Something of that old swagger had returned to his step, as had the devilish gleam in his eye. While Rita didn't expect a complete turnaround straight away, it felt like Dodger had pulled himself over his main hurdles. It was going to be all right, of that Rita was certain.

Dodger lay peering over his cushion at his sleeping companions. They were a family, and it had made all the difference to him. Now, he could let it all go and move on; the pain of rejection by his mother dimmed by the prospect of a fresh start as leader of his little gang. The worst was over.


	17. The Beginning

Darting over the back of a truck, Dodger glanced over his shoulder, and grinned as he discovered that his pursuers were nowhere in sight. At any rate, he was certain that he'd hear the crashing of Einstein before he'd see him, but the others perhaps not. The official purpose for the chase had been that it was a training exercise, making sure that the troops were up to Dodger's high standards, but really the young mutt just wanted to start the day with a bit of fun. Since the great escape from the dog fighters' basement, fun had been working its way back onto the agenda, and Dodger was getting back his old devil-may-care attitude. Things were looking up.

Dodger ran forward, jumping between cars as he went. Just ahead, he was sure he spied a glimpse of a fast-moving canine figure. He changed direction, taking the next right turn and using the flow of traffic to keep his speed up. His suspicions were soon confirmed when he saw Rita out the corner of his eye, running out from where he'd seen her last and cranking up her pace. And then from his other side came the clattering of paws on metal- they were surrounding him! Dodger was impressed, but they hadn't caught him just yet. He looked around to see Einstein close on his tail and Francis a little way away.

Rita swung round in front of Dodger while he was momentarily distracted by the others, cutting him off. "Got ya now, handsome!" she barked, her tail high in exhilaration.

Skidding to a stop, Dodger growled a threat, ready to clash. Just then, a small object collided with him from above, hitting him hard in the head. Dazed, he quickly realised that he'd been caught.

"Gotcha!" Tito hollered, rolling down off the windscreen of the taxi.

Before Dodger could react, he felt a sharp pressure at his throat and hot breath against his neck. He squirmed and grappled with Rita with his claws, soon dislodging her.

The poor driver of the taxi slammed on the brakes in alarm as three dogs slid scrambling and snarling down his windscreen. A loud sound of the horn did little to hurry their getting out of the way… they were just having a good time.

Soon, all five dogs were brawling together, and all laughing and growling as they went. Dodger finally broke away and made a run for it, eventually flopping down in a narrow alley to wait for his friends to catch him.

"Not bad," the mutt said, looking to the four panting faces. He couldn't believe that he'd seriously considered walking out on them- they were the best thing he had in his life. "You're gettin' the hang of car surfing, Francis."

Francis raised his head proudly. Having seen that his life with Fagin really wasn't such a hardship in the big scheme of things, he was now taking great strides in catching up with his friends. Of course, it helped that Dodger was now back in the saddle and confidently taking the lead, providing the novice with the guidance to make it as a street dog.

"Hey! Hey, I thought it was you lot!" came a voice, leading all five dogs to raise their heads. Rita's face lit up as she saw the thin figure of her father trotting towards them.

"How's it goin' Storm?" Dodger asked, "Not seen you in a while."

Storm couldn't help but think that the young mutt looked a whole lot more perky than the last time he'd seen him, and Rita looked happy and relaxed too.

Rita bumped her head against her father's affectionately. "I've missed you; a whole lot's happened since I last saw you." Admittedly, it was probably her own fault she'd not run into him; she'd not made any effort to seek him out immediately after the daring rescue, being preoccupied as she was with helping Dodger pull the gang together. Things were pretty settled now, and it felt great to see Storm after several weeks. "We're good though, I'm good."

Playfully snapping at Rita's ears, Storm could tell for sure that she was different; it seemed that whatever had been troubling her for so long had been dealt with and she'd moved on after ending her relationship with Scout. Her eyes appeared brighter, less tired, and it was a relief to Storm who could only assume that she was doing fine after they hadn't bumped into one another for so long. Satisfied with the emotional state of his daughter, he looked over the rest of the gang, almost as an afterthought. "Jeez, kid! What happened to your ear?" he exclaimed, noticing the wound that Tito still carried from his encounter with the vicious Brutus.

"War wounds, man!" Tito said proudly, and he jumped forward as if to give the hound a better look. The piece that had been taken out of his ear showed no sign of healing back, and it seemed he'd be left with the nick for life. The young dog didn't much care; it was a sign, after all, of his own fighting spirit, and something to be worn with pride.

"You should have seen it! I was right in there protecting the damsel in distress!"

Rita rolled her eyes. Since the rescue, the story had been told and retold what must have been a hundred times… and Tito never _did _seem to remember the part where he needed to be pulled out of harm's way by the 'damsel in distress'. Between the exaggerated version of events put out by Tito, and the one put out by Dodger, it was hard to be sure exactly what did go down that night. When it came down to it, Rita didn't much care; they all got out alive and that in itself was enough.

"_Someone," _Rita said, shaking her head in Dodger's direction, "slightly overestimated his ability to stay clear of those dog snatchers you warned us about."

"I was taken by dog fighters!" Francis announced imperiously. Terrifying though the experience had been, it was also the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him, and considered it proof of his own rather unexpected bravery and toughness that he'd gotten away safely- even if he had had a bit of help from his friends. "You could not imagine the horror, the inhumanity! I could never have dreamed that humans, the very beings we look to in friendship, had the capability to inflict such cruelty."

Storm's jaw dropped. "You're not serious? I thought I told you to be careful, Dodger."

Dodger just scratched himself, unconcerned. "Hey, I got us outta there, didn't I? Tito put their van outta action as well, so there won't be any trouble from those creeps for a while."

"They won't be dumb enough to mess with us again!" yipped Tito. "Those fight dogs are no match for five bad pups armed with street savoir-faire!"

"I'm just glad you're safe." Storm said, shaking his head in disbelief. He didn't think for a moment that Dodger had any intention of becoming more careful in the future- if anything, he suspected the adventure had only boosted his confidence. Storm's eyes wandered back over Rita, discreetly checking for any wounds that he might have missed. She seemed perfectly fit and healthy, with just a faint shadow of a wound on her shoulder.

"I've gotta admit it," Rita said, smiling, feeling her father's concern and hoping to put him at ease. "Dodger really was something; I didn't think it would be possible, but he made sure we pulled it off and he kept us all safe. It was the scariest thing I've ever done, but somehow we did it."

"We rescued Frankie from a dark and scary basement," Einstein piped up, "They took Dodger too, but he got out and took us back so we could help. We set all the dogs free."

Storm wasn't sure if he was horrified by Dodger's recklessness and the fact that Rita had been put in harm's way as a result of it, or in awe of the audacity and courage that their rescue mission must have taken. He'd wondered what Rita had been up to, but he couldn't have imagined anything like this. He caught Dodger's eye. "It sounds like you really are something, kid," he said, "Not many dogs could have pulled a stunt like that."

Dodger found himself basking in the admiring stares of his friends. A deep affection glowed in Rita's eyes as they locked with his, and it warmed him to his core.

"So Rita," Storm said, "want to go for a run in the park? Sounds like we've got some catching up to do?"

Rita wagged her tail, excited to fill her father in on all that had happened. "I've got work to do," she said, "but I'll meet you back round here in a few hours… maybe we could raid a picnic for lunch."

Dodger was a little relieved, but didn't show it. A part of him was sore at the thought of Rita leaving them to have some bonding time with a loving parent- it was something he himself had never experienced. He knew it was something he'd had to get over; and more than his jealousy, he wanted Rita to be happy, and the friendship she had with her father seemed to do that for her.

"I can go with that," Storm said, and he turned to leave. "I'll catch ya later then, squirt. Oh, and Dodger, try not to get yourself in any trouble, all right?"

Dodger just smirked. Trouble was his middle name! He watched Storm leave and then turned back to his gang, ready to get some more trouble started. "Okay, guys, let's get goin'."

* * *

The pounding of four sets of paws behind him lifted Dodger, and he was brimming with confidence. No longer held down by the trauma his mother had put him through, Dodger was once again at one with the city, moving with the endless beat that pulsed through it, and taking every opportunity for his own advantage. He hadn't a care in the world- why should he worry? Dodger ran up to the front of a massive truck and planted his paws into the metal. He lifted his head and let out a jubilant howl.

Echoes of joyous canine voices reverberated around, bouncing off the metal and cement that lined the streets. Dodger's howls were joined by those of Tito, Rita, Francis and Einstein, and each was distinctive to his ear, further boosting the feeling of self-confidence, of belonging, that pulsed through him.

Rita leapt gracefully between taxis, throwing herself higher and further in pure joy. She had everything she'd ever wanted, and it seemed that Dodger's troubles were over, and so, hers were too. She ran to his side, her movements light and bouncy, and soon all five of them were standing together, united and unafraid of the future that they would face side by side.

Caught up in the wonderful feeling- the best he'd felt in longer than he'd care to think, Dodger knew he wasn't going to be afraid to hold onto his past- not the parts that mattered anyway. He'd taught himself how to use the city's traffic to his own advantage when he was only a tiny pup, become a bold and calculating thief- and in doing so given a new hope to the friends who _did _love him. He'd saved Rita from probable death twice, and given her the love she'd needed to get through the hurt from her own past. He'd turned the unlikely duo of Francis and Tito into a pair of dogs equipped to handle the mean streets of New York City. He'd made them a team, a family, and together they'd taken on a challenge beyond anything he could have imagined. Dodger knew that it was those parts of him that made him who he really was. He wasn't some sad pup, unwanted even by his own mother; he was Dodger, New York's coolest quadruped and leader of the city's finest dog gang. And that, he knew, was just the beginning of their story.


End file.
